UNIVERSITY  OF  NORTH  CAROLINA 
CHAPEL   HILL,  NORTH  CAROLINA     27514 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 


ENDOWED  BY  THE 

DIALECTIC  AND  PHILANTHROPIC 

SOCIETIES 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00024017369 


This  book  is  due  at  the  WALTER  R.  DAVIS  LIBRARY  on 
the  last  date  stamped  under  "Date  Due."  If  not  on  hold,  it  may 
be  renewed  by  bringing  it  to  the  library. 


DATE 
DUE 


DATE 
DUE 


f^2n£W 


-TlBra 


NOV  2  2  20  » 


VW- 


MftT  * 


..  i 


APK2  82006 


FEB  2 


r^r-v  "--"- 


L-   i.    i 


Form  No  513. 
Rev  1/84 


•Cfje  WavWi  Quaint  Hitcrature 


THE  Masterpieces  of  the  World's  Greatest 
Authors  in  History,  Biography, Philosophy, 
Economics,  Politics ;  Epic  and  Dramatic 
Literature,  History  of  English  Literature,  Oriental 
Literature  {Sacred  and  Profane),  Orations,  Essays. 
Sixty-one  Crown   Octavo  Volumes       ::       ::       :: 


ILLUSTRATED    WITH     FRONTISPIECES,    EACH    A    MASTER 
WORK  OF  ART  IN   PORTRAITURE  OR  HISTORIC  PAINTING 


q&ritors 


LIBRARY    COMMITTEE 

justin  McCarthy,  m.p. 

Historian  a nd  Jou rnalist 

TIMOTHY  DWIGHT,   D.D.,  LL.D 

Ex-President  Yale  University 

RICHARD  HENRY  STODDARD 

A  uthor  and  Critic 

PAUL  VAN    DYKE,   D.D. 

Princeton  University 

ALBERT  ELLERY  BERGH 

Ulanaging  Editor 

ADVISORY    COMMITTEE 

JOHN  T.    MORGAN 

United  States  Senate 

FREDERIC  R.   COUDERT,   LL.D. 

New  York  Bar 

EDWARD  EVERETT  HALE 

A  uthor  and  Editor 

MAURICE  FRANCIS  EGAN,  LL.D. 

Catholic  University  of  America 

JULIAN  HAWTHORNE 

Literary  Editor 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


http://archive.org/details/philosophyofhistOO 


O&eorg  UMfjelm  ifrtebrtcf)  i^cgel 

Photogravure  from  a  steel  engraving 

THIS  distinguished  German  philosopher  was  born  at  Stuttgart 
in  1770,  was  educated  at  the  University  of  Tubingen,  occu- 
pied university  chairs  at  Jena,  Heidelberg,  and  Berlin,  and 
died  of  cholera  in  1831.  His  "Philosophy  of  History"  may  be 
considered  the  greatest  of  his  works  because  of  the  great  and  far- 
reaching  influence  it  has  had  upon  European  political  and  economic 
thought. 


THE   PHILOSOPHY  OF 


HISTORY 


.mi- 


BY 


GEORG  WILHELM  FRIEDRICH   HEGEI 


WITH   PREFACES  BY 

CHARLES   HEGEL 

AND    THE   TRANSLATOR 

J.  SIBREE,  M.A. 


REVISED  EDITION 


THE  LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

THE  CO-OPERATIVE   PUBLICATION  SOCIETY 


ff-' 


"  The  History  of  the  World  is  not  intelligible  apart  from  a 
Government  of  the    World." — W.  V.  HUMBOLDT 


Copyright,  t<>oo,  nv 
THE   COLONIAL   PRESS 


TRANSLATOR'S    INTRODUCTION 

HEGEL'S  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  History  are  rec- 
ognized in  Germany  as  a  popular  introduction  to  his 
system;  their  form  is  less  rigid  than  the  generality 
of  metaphysical  treatises,  and  the  illustrations,  which  occupy 
a.  large  proportion  of  the  work,  are  drawn  from  a  field  of  obser- 
vation more  familiar  perhaps,  than  any  other,  to  those  who 
have  not  devoted  much  time  to  metaphysical  studies.  One 
great  value  of  the  work  is  that  it  presents  the  leading  facts  of 
history  from  an  altogether  novel  point  of  view.  And  when 
it  is  considered  that  the  writings  of  Hegel  have  exercised  a 
marked  influence  on  the  political  movements  of  Germany,  it  will 
be  admitted  that  his  theory  of  the  universe,  especially  that  part 
which  bears  directly  upon  politics,  deserves  attention  even  from 
those  who  are  the  most  exclusive  advocates  of  the  "  practical." 

A  writer  who  has  established  his  claim  to  be  regarded  as  an 
authority,  by  the  life  which  he  has  infused  into  metaphysical 
abstractions,  has  pronounced  the  work  before  us,  "  one  of  the 
pleasantest  books  on  the  subject  he  ever  read."  * 

And  compared  with  that  of  most  German  writers,  even  the 
style  may  claim  to  be  called  vigorous  and  pointed.  If  therefore 
in  its  English  dress  the  "  Philosophy  of  History  "  should  be 
found  deficient  in  this  respect,  the  fault  must  not  be  attributed 
to  the  original. 

It  has  been  the  aim  of  the  translator  to  present  his  author 
to  the  public  in  a  really  English  form,  even  at  the  cost  of  a 
circumlocution  which  must  sometimes  do  injustice  to  the  merits 
of  the  original.  A  few  words  however  have  nee  ssarily  been 
used  in  a  rather  unusual  sense;  and  one  of  them  is  of  very 
frequent  occurrence.  The  German  "  Geist,"  in  Hegel's  nomen- 
clature, includes  both  intelligence  and  will,  the  latter  even 
more  expressly  than  the  former.     It  embraces  in  fact  man's 

*Mr.  G.  H.  Lewes,  in  his  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,  Vol. 
IV.,  Ed.  1841. 

Vol.  23  A— Classics 

- 


iv  HEGEL 

entire  mental  and  moral  being,  and  a  little  reflection  will  make 
it  obvious  that  no  term  in  our  metaphysical  vocabulary  could 
have  been  well  substituted  for  the  more  theological  one, 
"  Spirit,"  as  a  fair  equivalent.  It  is  indeed  only  the  impersonal 
and  abstract  use  of  the  term  that  is  open  to  objection ;  an  objec- 
tion which  can  be  met  by  an  appeal  to  the  best  classical  usage ; 
viz.  the  rendering  of  the  Hebrew  rni  and  Greek  irvevfia  in  the 
authorized  version  of  the  Scriptures.  One  indisputable  in- 
stance may  suffice  in  confirmation :  "  Their  horses  [i.e.  of  the 
Egyptians]  are  flesh  and  not  spirit."  (Isaiah  xxxi.  3.)  It  is 
pertinent  to  remark  here,  that  the  comparative  disuse  of  this 
term  in  English  metaphysical  literature,  is  one  result  of  that 
alienation  of  theology  from  philosophy  with  which  continental 
writers  of  the  most  opposite  schools  agree  in  taxing  the  specu- 
lative genius  of  Britain — an  alienation  which  mainly  accounts 
for  the  gulf  separating  English  from  German  speculation,  and 
which  will,  it  is  feared,  on  other  accounts  also  be  the  occasion 
of  communicating  a  somewhat  uninviting  aspect  to  the  follow- 
ing pages. 

The  distinction  which  the  Germans  make  between  "  Sittlich- 
keit "  and  "  Moralitat,"  has  presented  another  difficulty.  The 
former  denotes  conventional  morality,  the  latter  that  of  the 
heart  or  conscience.  Where  no  ambiguity  was  likely  to  arise, 
both  terms  have  been  translated  "  morality."  In  other  cases 
a  stricter  rendering  has  been  given,  modified  by  the  require- 
ments of  the  context.  The  word  "  moment  "  is,  as  readers  of 
German  philosophy  are  aware,  a  veritable  crux  to  the  translator. 
In  Mr.  J.  R.  Morell's  very  valuable  edition  of  Johnson's  Trans- 
lation of  Tennemann's  "  Manual  of  the  History  of  Philosophy," 
the  following  explanation  is  given :  "  This  term  was  bor- 
rowed from  mechanics  by  Hegel  (see  his  "  Wissenschaft  der 
Logik,"  Vol.  3,  P.  104,  Ed.  1841).  He  employs  it  to  de- 
note the  contending  forces  which  are  mutually  dependent, 
and  whose  contradiction  forms  an  equation.  Hence  his 
formula,  Esse  =  Nothing.  Here  Esse  and  Nothing  are  mo- 
mentums,  giving  birth  to  Werden,  i.e.  Existence.  Thus  the 
momentum  contributes  to  the  same  oneness  of  operation  in  con- 
tradictory forces  that  we  see  in  mechanics,  amidst  contrast  and 
diversity,  in  weight  and  distance,  in  the  case  of  the  balance." 
But  in  several  parts  of  the  work  before  us  this  definition  is  not 
strictly  adhered  to,  and  the  translator  believes  he  has  done 


TRANSLATOR'S  INTRODUCTION  v 

justice  to  the  original  in  rendering  the  word  by  "  successive  " 
or  "  organic  phase."  In  the  chapter  on  the  Crusades  another 
term  occurs  which  could  not  be  simply  rendered  into  English. 
The  definite,  positive,  and  present  embodiment  of  essential 
being  is  there  spoken  of  as  "  ein  Dieses,"  "  das  Dieses,"  etc., 
literally  "  a  This,"  "  the  This,"  for  which  repulsive  combination 
a  periphrasis  has  been  substituted,  which,  it  is  believed,  is  not 
only  accurate  but  expository.  Paraphrastic  additions,  however, 
have  been,  in  fairness  to  the  reader,  enclosed  in  brackets  [  ]  ; 
and  the  philosophical  appropriation  of  ordinary  terms  is  gen- 
erally indicated  by  capitals,  e.g.  "  Spirit,"  "  Freedom,"  "  State," 
"  Nature,"  etc. 

The  limits  of  a  brief  preface  preclude, an  attempt  to  explain 
the  Hegelian  method  in  its  wider  applications ;  and  such  an 
undertaking  is  rendered  altogether  unnecessary  by  the  facilities 
which  are  afforded  by  works  so  very  accessible  as  the  transla- 
tion of  Tennemann  above  mentioned,  Chalybseus's  "  Historical 
Development  of  Speculative  Philosophy,  from  Kant  to  Hegel," 
Blakey's  "  History  of  the  Philosophy  of  Mind,"  Mr.  Lewes's 
"  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  besides  treatises  de- 
voted more  particularly  to  the  Hegelian  philosophy.  Among  these 
latter  may  be  fairly  mentioned  the  work  of  a  French  professor, 
M.  Vera,  "  Introduction  a  la  Philosophic  de  Hegel,"  a  lucid  and 
earnest  exposition  of  the  system  at  large ;  and  the  very  able 
summary  of  Hegel's  "  Philosophy  of  Right,"  by  T.  C.  Sandars, 
late  fellow  of  Oriel  College,  which  forms  one  of  the  series  of 
"  Oxford  Essays  "  for  1855,  and  which  bears  directly  on  the 
subject  of  the  present  volume. 

It  may,  nevertheless,  be  of  some  service  to  the  reader  to  indi- 
cate the  point  of  view  from  which  this  "  Philosophy  of  History  " 
is  composed,  and  to  explain  the  leading  idea. 

The  aim  and  scope  of  that  civilizing  process  which  all  hopeful 
thinkers  recognize  in  history,  is  the  attainment  of  Rational 
Freedom.  But  the  very  term  freedom  supposes  a  previous 
bondage ;  and  "the  question  naturally  arises :  "  Bondage  to 
what?  " — A  superficial  inquirer  may  be  satisfied  with  an  answer 
referring  it  to  the  physical  power  of  the  ruling  body.  Such  a 
response  was  deemed  satisfactory  by  a  large  number  of  political 
speculators  in  the  last  century,  and  even  at  the  beginning  of 
the  present;  and  it  is  one  of  the  great  merits  of  an  influential 
thinker  of  our  days  to  have  expelled  this  idolum  fori,  which 


vi  HEGEL 

had  also  become  an  idolum  theatri,  from  its  undue  position ; 
and  to  have  revived  the  simple  truth  that  all  stable  organizations 
of  men,  all  religious  and  political  communities,  are  based  upon 
principles  which  are  far  beyond  the  control  of  the  One  or  the 
Many.  And  in  these  principles  or  some  phase  of  them  every 
man  in  every  clime  and  age  is  born,  lives  and  moves.  The 
only  question  is :  Whence  are  those  principles  derived  ?  Whence 
spring  those  primary  beliefs  or  superstitions,  religious  and  polit- 
ical, that  hold  society  together?  They  are  no  inventions  of 
"  priestcraft  "  or  "  kingcraft,"  for  to  them  priestcraft  and  king- 
craft owe  their  power.  They  are  no  results  of  a  Contrat  Social, 
for  with  them  society  originates.  Nor  are  they  the  mere  sug- 
gestions of  man's  weakness,  prompting  him  to  propitiate  the 
powers  of  nature,  in  furtherance  of  his  finite,  earthborn  desires. 
Some  of  the  phenomena  of  the  religious  systems  that  have  pre- 
vailed in  the  world  might  seem  thus  explicable ;  but  the  Nihil- 
ism of  more  than  one  Oriental  creed,  the  suicidal  strivings  of 
the  Hindoo  devotee  to  become  absorbed  in  a  divinity  recognized 
as  a  pure  negation,  cannot  be  reduced  to  so  gross  a  formula ; 
while  the  political  superstition  that  ascribes  a  divine  right  to 
the  feebleness  of  a  woman  or  an  infant  is  altogether  untouched 
by  it.  Nothing  is  left  therefore  but  to  recognize  them  as  "  fan- 
cies," "  delusions,"  "  dreams,"  the  results  of  man's  vain  imagi- 
nation— to  class  them  with  the  other  absurdities  with  which  the 
abortive  past  of  humanity  is  by  some  thought  to  be  only  too 
replete ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  regard  them  as  the  rudimen 
tary  teachings  of  that  essential  intelligence  in  which  man's 
intellectual  and  moral  life  originates.  With  Hegel  they  are  the 
objective  manifestation  of  infinite  reason — the  first  promptings 
of  Him  who  having  "  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men  for 
to  dwell  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  hath  determined  the  times  be- 
fore appointed,  and  the  bounds  of  their  habitation,  if  haply  they 
might  feel  after  and  find  him  " — tov  yhp  ical  <yei>os  tafiev.  And 
it  is  these  icaipoi  irpoTeTcuyp.kvoi,,  these  determined  and  organic 
epochs  in  the  history  of  the  world  that  Hegel  proposes  to  dis- 
tinguish and  develop  in  the  following  treatise. 

Whatever  view  may  be  entertained  as  to  the  origin  or  impor- 
tance of  those  elementary  principles,  and  by  whatever  general 
name  they  may  be  called — Spontaneous,  Primary,  or  Objective 
Intelligence — it  seems  demonstrable  that  it  is  in  some  sense  or 
other  to  its  own  belief,  its  own  reason  or  essential  being,  that 


TRANSLATOR'S  INTRODUCTION  vii 

imperfect  humanity  is  in  bondage;  while  the  perfection  of 
social  existence  is  commonly  regarded  as  a  deliverance  from 
that  bondage.  In  the  Hegelian  system,  this  paradoxical  condi- 
tion is  regarded  as  one  phase  of  that  antithesis  which  is  pre- 
sented in  all  spheres  of  existence,  between  the  subjective  and 
the  objective,  but  which  it  is  the  result  of  the  natural  and  intel- 
lectual processes  that  constitute  the  life  of  the  universe,  to  annul 
by  merging  into  one  absolute  existence.  And  however  startling 
this  theory  may  be  as  applied  to  other  departments  of  nature 
and  intelligence,  it  appears  to  be  no  unreasonable  formula  for 
the  course  of  civilization,  and  which  is  substantially  as  follows : 
In  less  cultivated  nations,  political  and  moral  restrictions  are 
looked  upon  as  objectively  posited ;  the  constitution  of  society, 
like  the  world  of  natural  objects,  is  regarded  as  something  into 
which  a  man  is  inevitably  born ;  and  the  individual  feels  himself 
bound  to  comply  with  requirements  of  whose  justice  or  pro- 
priety he  is  not  allowed  to  judge,  though  they  often  severely  test 
his  endurance,  and  even  demand  the  sacrifice  of  his  life.  In 
a  state  of  high  civilization,  on  the  contrary,  though  an  equal 
self-sacrifice  be  called  for,  it  is  in  respect  of  laws  and  institutions 
which  are  felt  to  be  just  and  desirable.  This  change  of  relation 
may,  without  any  very  extraordinary  use  of  terms,  or  extrava- 
gance of  speculative  conceit,  be  designated  the  harmonization 
or  reconciliation  of  objective  and  subjective  intelligence.  The 
successive  phases  which  humanity  has  assumed  in  passing  from 
that  primitive  state  of  bondage  to  this  condition  of  rational 
freedom  form  the  chief  subject  of  the  following  lectures. 

The  mental  and  moral  condition  of  individuals  and  their  social 
and  religious  conditions  (the  subjective  and  objective  mani- 
festations of  reason)  exhibit  a  strict  correspondence  with  each 
other  in  every  grade  of  progress.  "  They  that  make  them  are 
like  unto  them,"  is  as  true  of  religious  and  political  ideas  as 
of  religious  and  political  idols.  Where  man  sets  no  value  on 
that  part  of  his  mental  and  moral  life  which  makes  him  superior 
to  the  brutes,  brute  life  will  be  an  object  of  worship  and  bestial 
sensuality  will  be  the  genius  of  the  ritual.  Where  mere  inaction 
is  the  finis  bonorum,  absorption  in  nothingness  will  be  the  aim 
of  the  devotee.  Where,  on  the  contrary,  active  and  vigorous 
virtue  is  recognized  as  constituting  the  real  value  of  man — 
where  subjective  spirit  has  learned  to  assert  its  own  freedom, 
both  against  irrational  and  unjust  requirements  from  without, 


viii  HEGEL 

and  caprice,  passion,  and  sensuality,  from  within,  it  will  demand 
a  living,  acting,  just,  and  holy,  embodiment  of  Deity  as  the  only 
possible  object  of  its  adoration.  In  the  same  degree,  political 
principles  also  will  be  affected.  Where  mere  nature  predomi- 
nates, no  legal  relations  will  be  acknowledged  but  those  based 
on  natural  distinction ;  rights  will  be  inexorably  associated  with 
"  caste."  Where,  on  the  other  hand,  spirit  has  attained  its 
freedom,  it  will  require  a  code  of  laws  and  political  constitu- 
tion, in  which  the  rational  subordination  of  nature  to  reason 
that  prevails  in  its  own  being,  and  the  strength  it  feels  to  resist 
sensual  seductions  shall  be  distinctly  mirrored. 

Between  the  lowest  and  highest  grades  of  intelligence  and 
will,  there  are  several  intervening  stages,  around  which  a  com- 
plex of  derivative  ideas,  and  of  institutions,  arts,  and  sciences, 
in  harmony  with  them,  are  aggregated.  Each  of  these  aggre- 
gates has  acquired  a  name  in  history  as  a  distinct  nationality. 
Where  the  distinctive  principle  is  losing  its  vigor,  as  the  result 
of  the  expansive  force  of  mind  of  which  it  was  only  the  tempo- 
rary embodiment,  the  national  life  declines,  and  we  have  the 
transition  to  a  higher  grade,  in  which  a  comparatively  abstract 
and  limited  phase  of  subjective  intelligence  and  will — to  which 
corresponds  an  equally  imperfect  phase  of  objective  reason — 
is  exchanged  for  one  more  concrete,  and  vigorous — one  which 
develops  human  capabilities  more  freely  and  fully,  and  in  which 
right  is  more  adequately  comprehended. 

The  goal  of  this  contention  is,  as  already  indicated,  the  self- 
realization,  the  complete  development  of  spirit,  whose  proper 
nature  is  freedom — freedom  in  both  senses  of  the  term,  i.e.  lib- 
eration from  outward  control — inasmuch  as  the  law  to  which  it 
submits  has  its  own  explicit  sanction — and  emancipation  from 
the  inward  slavery  of  lust  and  passion. 

The  above  remarks  are  not  designed  to  afford  anything  like 
a  complete  or  systematic  analysis  of  Hegel's  "  Philosophy  of 
History,"  but  simply  to  indicate  its  leading  conception,  and  if 
possible  to  contribute  something  towards  removing  a  prejudice 
against  it  on  the  score  of  its  resolving  facts  into  mystical  para- 
doxes, or  attempting  to  construe  them  a  priori.  In  applying 
the  theory,  some  facts  may  not  improbably  have  been  distorted, 
some  brought  into  undue  prominence,  and  others  altogether 
neglected.  In  the  most  cautious  and  limited  analysis  of  the 
past,  failures  and  perversions  of  this  kind  are  inevitable :  and 


TRANSLATOR'S  INTRODUCTION  ix 

a  comprehensive  view  of  history  is  proportionately  open  to 
mistake.  But  it  is  another  question  whether  the  principles  ap- 
plied in  this  work  to  explain  the  course  which  civilization  has 
followed,  are  a  correct  inference  from  historical  facts,  and 
afford  a  reliable  clue  to  the  explanation  of  their  leading  aspects. 
The  translator  would  remark,  in  conclusion,  that  the  "  In- 
troduction "  will  probably  be  found  the  most  tedious  and  diffi- 
cult part  of  the  treatise ;  he  would  therefore  suggest  a  cursory 
reading  of  it  in  the  first  instance,  and  a  second  perusal  as  a 
resume  of  principles  which  are  more  completely  illustrated  in 
the  body  of  the  work. 

J.  Sibree. 


CHARLES  HEGEL'S  PREFACE 

THE  changed  form  in  which  Hegel's  lectures  on  the  Phi- 
losophy of  History  are  re-issued,  suggests  the  necessity 
of  some  explanation  respecting  the  relation  of  this  sec- 
ond edition  both  to  the  original  materials  from  which  the  work 
was  compiled,  and  to  their  first  publication. 

The  lamented  Professor  Gans,  the  editor  of  the  "  Philosophy 
of  History,"  displayed  a  talented  ingenuity  in  transforming 
lectures  into  a  book;  in  doing  so  he  followed  for  the  most 
part  Hegel's  latest  deliveries  of  the  course,  because  they  were 
the  most  popular,  and  appeared  most  adapted  to  his  object. 

He  succeeded  in  presenting  the  lectures  much  as  they  were 
delivered  in  the  winter  of  1830-31 ;  and  this  result  might  be 
regarded  as  perfectly  satisfactory,  if  Hegel's  various  readings 
of  the  course  had  been  more  uniform  and  concordant,  if  indeed 
they  had  not  rather  been  of  such  a  nature  as  to  supplement  each 
other.  For  however  great  may  have  been  Hegel's  power  of  con- 
densing the  wide  extent  of  the  phenomenal  world  by  thought, 
it  was  impossible  for  him  entirely  to  master  and  to  present  in  a 
uniform  shape  the  immeasurable  material  of  history  in  the 
course  of  one  semester.  In  the  first  delivery  in  the  winter  of 
1822-23,  he  was  chiefly  occupied  with  unfolding  the  philosoph- 
ical idea,  and  showing  how  this  constitutes  the  real  kernel  of 
history,  and  the  impelling  soul  of  world-historical  peoples. 
In  proceeding  to  treat  of  China  and  India,  he  wished,  as  he  said 
himself,  only  to  show  by  example  how  philosophy  ought  to 
comprehend  the  character  of  a  nation ;  and  this  could  be  done 
more  easily  in  the  case  of  the  stationary  nations  of  the  East, 
than  in  that  of  peoples  which  have  a  bond  fide  history  and  a 
historical  development  of  character.  A  warm  predilection  made 
him  linger  long  with  the  Greeks,  for  whom  he  always  felt  a 
youthful  enthusiasm;  and  after  a  brief  consideration  of  the 
Roman  World  he  endeavored  finally  to  condense  the  Mediaeval 
Period  and  the  Modern  Time  into  a  few  lectures;   for  time 

xi 


xii  HEGEL 

pressed,  and  when,  as  in  the  Christian  World,  the  thought  no 
longer  lies  concealed  among  the  multitude  of  phenomena,  but 
announces  itself  and  is  obviously  present  in  history,  the  philos- 
opher is  at  liberty  to  abridge  his  discussion  of  it ;  in  fact,  nothing 
more  is  needed  than  to  indicate  the  impelling  idea.  In  the 
later  readings,  on  the  other  hand,  China,  India,  and  the  East 
generally  were  more  speedily  despatched,  and  more  time  and 
attention  devoted  to  the  German  World.  By  degrees  the  philo- 
sophical and  abstract  occupied  less  space,  the  historical  matter 
was  expanded,  and  the  whole  became  more  popular. 

It  is  easy  to  see  how  the  different  readings  of  the  course 
supplement  each  other,  and  how  the  entire  substance  cannot 
be  gathered  without  uniting  the  philosophical  element  which 
predominates  in  the  earlier,  and  which  must  constitute  the  basis 
of  the  work,  with  the  historical  expansion  which  characterizes 
the  latest  deliveries. 

Had  Hegel  pursued  the  plan  which  most  professors  adopt,  in 
adapting  notes  for  use  in  the  lecture  room,  of  merely  appending 
emendations  and  additions  to  the  original  draught,  it  would  be 
correct  to  suppose  that  his  latest  readings  would  be  also  the 
most  matured.  But  as,  on  the  contrary,  every  delivery  was  with 
him  a  new  act  of  thought,  each  gives  only  the  expression  of  that 
degree  of  philosophical  energy  which  animates  his  mind  at  the 
time;  thus,  in  fact,  the  two  first  deliveries  of  1822-23  and  1824- 
25,  exhibit  a  far  more  comprehensive  vigor  of  idea  and  ex- 
pression, a  far  richer  store  of  striking  thoughts  and  appropriate 
images,  than  those  of  later  date ;  for  that  first  inspiration  which 
accompanied  the  thoughts  when  they  first  sprang  into  existence, 
could  only  lose  its  living  freshness  by  repetition. 

From  what  has  been  said,  the  nature  of  the  task  which  a 
new  edition  involved  is  sufficiently  manifest.  A  treasury  of 
thought  of  no  trifling  value  had  to  be  recovered  from  the  first 
readings,  and  the  tone  of  originality  restored  to  the  whole.  The 
printed  text  therefore  was  made  the  basis,  and  the  work  of 
inserting,  supplementing,  substituting,  and  transforming  (as 
the  case  seemed  to  require),  was  undertaken  with  the  greatest 
possible  respect  for  the  original.  No  scope  was  left  for  the 
individual  views  of  the  editor,  since  in  all  such  alterations 
Hegel's  manuscripts  were  the  sole  guide.  For  while  the  first 
publication  of  these  lectures — a  part  of  the  introduction  ex- 
cepted— followed  the  notes  of  the  hearers  only,  the  second  edi- 


PREFACE  xiii 

tion  has  endeavored  to  supplement  it  by  making  Hegel's  own 
manuscripts  the  basis  throughout,  and  using  the  notes  only  for 
the  purpose  of  rectification  and  arrangement.  The  editor  has 
striven  after  uniformity  of  tone  through  the  whole  work  simply 
by  allowing  the  author  to  speak  everywhere  in  his  own  words ; 
so  that  not  only  are  the  new  insertions  taken  verbatim  from  the 
manuscripts,  but  even  where  the  printed  text  was  retained  in 
the  main,  peculiar  expressions  which  the  hearer  had  lost  in 
transcription,  were  restored. 

For  the  benefit  of  those  who  place  vigor  of  thought  in  a  for- 
mal schematism,  and  with  polemical  zeal  assert  its  exclusive 
claim  against  other  styles  of  philosophizing,  the  remark  may 
be  added  that  Hegel  adhered  so  little  to  the  subdivisions  which 
he  had  adopted,  that  he  made  some  alterations  in  them  on  occa- 
sion of  every  reading  of  the  course — treated  Buddhism  and 
Lamaism,  e.g.,  sometimes  before,  sometimes  after  India,  some- 
times reduced  the  Christian  World  more  closely  to  the  German 
nations,  sometimes  took  in  the  Byzantine  Empire,  and  so  on. 
The  new  edition  has  had  but  few  alterations  to  make  in  this 
respect. 

When  the  association  for  publishing  Hegel's  works  did  me 
the  honor  to  intrust  me  with  the  re-editing  of  my  father's 
"  Philosophy  of  History,"  it  also  named  as  advocates  of  the 
claims  of  the  first  edition,  and  as  representatives  of  Professor 
Gans,  who  had  been  removed  from  its  circle  by  death,  three  of 
its  members,  Geh.  Ober-Regierungs  Rath  Dr.  Schulze,  Professor 
von  Henning,  and  Professor  Hotho,  to  whose  revision  the  work 
in  its  new  shape  was  to  be  submitted.  In  this  revision,  I  not 
only  enjoyed  the  acquiescence  of  those  most  estimable  men  and 
valued  friends  in  the  alterations  I  had  made,  but  also  owe  them 
a  debt  of  thanks  for  many  new  emendations,  which  I  take  the 
opportunity  of  thus  publicly  discharging. 

In  conclusion,  I  feel  constrained  to  acknowledge  that  my 
gratitude  to  that  highly  respected  association  for  the  praise- 
worthy deed  of  love  to  science,  friendship,  and  disinterested- 
ness, whose  prosecution  originated  it  and  still  holds  it  together, 
could  be  increased  only  by  the  fact  of  its  having  granted  me  also 
a  share  in  editing  the  works  of  my  beloved  father. 

Charles  Hegel. 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTION 

PAGE 

I.  Original   History I 

II.  Reflective   History 4 

III.  Philosophical  History 8 

Geographical  Basis  of  History 79 

Classification  of  Historic  Data 103 

PART  I.— The  Oriental  World 

Principle  of  the  Oriental  World in 

Section     I.  China 116 

Section    II.  India   139 

Section    II.  Continued.     India — Buddhism  167 

Section  III.  Persia   173 

Chapter     I.  The  Zend  People 176 

Chapter   II.  The    Assyrians,    Babylonians,    Medes,    and    Per- 
sians   182 

Chapter  III.  The  Persian  Empire  and  its  Constituent  Parts. . . .  187 

Persia    188 

Syria  and  Semitic  Western  Asia 191 

Judaea 195 

Egypt 198 

Transition  to  the  Greek  World 219 

PART  II.— The  Greek  World 

The  Region  of  Spirit 223 

Section    I.  The  Elements  of  the  Greek  Spirit 225 

Section  II.  Phases  of  Individuality  iEsthetically  Conditioned..  241 

Chapter     I.  The  Subjective  Work  of  Art 241 

Chapter    II.  The  Objective  Work  of  Art 244 

Chapter  III.  The  Political  Work  of  Art 250 

The  War  with  the  Persians 256 

Athens   258 

Sparta    262 

The  Peloponnesian  War 265 

The  Macedonian  Empire 271 

Section  III.  'Fall  of  the  Greek  Spirit 275 

xv 


xvi  HEGEL 


PART  III.— The  Roman  World 

PAGB 

Distinction  between  the  Roman,  Persian,  and  Greek  Principle 278 

Section  I.  Rome  to  the  Time  of  the  Second  Punic  War 283 

Chapter   I.  The  Elements  of  the  Roman  Spirit 283 

Chapter  II.  History  of  Rome  to  the  Second  Punic  War 296 

Section   II.  Rome  from  the  Second  Punic  War  to  the  Emperors .  306 

Section  III.  Chapter  I.   Rome  under  the  Emperors 314 

Chapter   II.  Christianity 318 

Chapter  III.    The  Byzantine  Empire 336 


PART  IV.— The  German  World 

The  Principle  of  Spiritual  Freedom 341 

Section  I.  The  Elements  of  the  Christian  German  World 347 

Chapter     I.  The  Barbarian  Migrations 347 

Chapter   II.  Mahometanism  355 

Chapter  III.  The  Empire  of  Charlemagne 360 

Section  II.  The  Middle  Ages 366 

Chapter     I.  The  Feudality  and  the  Hierarchy 366 

Chapter   II.  The   Crusade 389 

Chapter  III.  The  Transition  from  Feudalism  to  Monarchy 398 

Section  III.  The  Modern  Time 412 

Chapter     I.  The    Reformation 412 

Chapter    II.  Influence  of  the  Reformation  on  Political  Develop- 
ment   427 

Chapter  III.  The  Eclair cissement  and  Revolution 438 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

INTRODUCTION 

THE  subject  of  this  course  of  Lectures  is  the  Philosophical 
History  of  the  World.  And  by  this  must  be  understood, 
not  a  collection  of  general  observations  respecting  it, 
suggested  by  the  study  of  its  records,  and  proposed  to  be  illus- 
trated by  its  facts,  but  Universal  History  itself.*  To  gain  a 
clear  idea,  at  the  outset,  of  the  nature  of  our  task,  it  seems 
necessary  to  begin  with  an  examination  of  the  other  methods 
of  treating  History.  The  various  methods  may  be  ranged 
under  three  heads : 

I.  Original  Histopy. 
II.  Reflective  History. 
III.  Philosophical  History. 

I.  Of  the  first  kind,  the  mention  of  one  or  two  distinguished 
names  will  furnish  a  definite  type.  To  this  category  belong 
Herodotus,  Thucydides,  and  other  historians  of  the  same  order, 
whose  descriptions  are  for  the  most  part  limited  to  deeds,  events, 
and  states  of  society,  which  they  had  before  their  eyes,  and 
whose  spirit  they  shared.  They  simply  transferred  what  was 
passing  in  the  world  around  them,  to  the  realm  of  representa- 
tive intellect.  An  external  phenomenon  is  thus  translated  into 
an  internal  conception.  In  the  same  way  the  poet  operates  upon 
the  material  supplied  him  by  his  emotions;  projecting  it  into 
an  image  for  the  conceptive  faculty.  These  original  historians 
did,  it  is  true,  find  statements  and  narratives  of  other  men  ready 
to  hand.  One  person  cannot  be  an  eye  or  ear  witness  of  every- 
thing. But  they  make  use  of  such  aids  only  as  the  poet  does 
of  that  heritage  of  an  already-formed  language,  to  which  he 
owes  so  much ;    merely  as  an  ingredient.     Historiographers 

*  I  cannot  mention  any  work  that  will  a  Universal  History  as  it  is  proposed  to 

serve  as  a   compendium  of  the  course,  develop,  and  a  syllabus  of  the  chief  ele- 

but  I  may  remark  that  in  my  "  Outlines  ments  or  periods  into  which  it  naturally 

of  the  Philosophy  of  Law,"  §§  341-360,  I  divides  itself. 
have  already  given  a  definition  of  such 


t  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

bind  together  the  fleeting  elements  of  story,  and  treasure  them 
up  for  immortality  in  the  Temple  of  Mnemosyne.  Legends, 
Ballad-stories,  Traditions,  must  be  excluded  from  such  original 
history.  These  are  but  dim  and  hazy  forms  of  historical  ap- 
prehension, and  therefore  belong  to  nations  whose  intelligence 
is  but  half  awakened.  Here,  on  the  contrary,  we  have  to  do  with 
people  fully  conscious  of  what  they  were  and  what  they  were 
about.  The  domain  of  reality — actually  seen,  or  capable  of 
being  so — affords  a  very  different  basis  in  point  of  firmness 
from  that  fugitive  and  shadowy  element,  in  which  were  engen- 
dered those  legends  and  poetic  dreams  whose  historical  prestige 
vanishes,  as  soon  as  nations  have  attained  a  mature  individ- 
uality. 

Such  original  historians,  then,  change  the  events,  the  deeds, 
and  the  states  of  society  with  which  they  are  conversant,  into 
an  object  for  the  conceptive  faculty.  The  narratives  they 
leave  us  cannot,  therefore,  be  very  comprehensive  in  their  range. 
Herodotus,  Thucydides,  Guicciardini,  may  be  taken  as  fair 
samples  of  the  class  in  this  respect.  What  is  present  and  living 
in  their  environment  is  their  proper  material.  The  influences 
that  have  formed  the  writer  are  identical  with  those  which  have 
moulded  the  events  that  constitute  the  matter  of  his  story.  The 
author's  spirit,  and  that  of  the  actions  he  narrates,  is  one  and 
the  same.  He  describes  scenes  in  which  he  himself  has  been  an 
actor,  or  at  any  rate  an  interested  spectator.  It  is  short  periods 
of  time,  individual  shapes  of  persons  and  occurrences,  single, 
unreflected  traits,  of  which  he  makes  his  picture.  And  his  aim 
is  nothing  more  than  the  presentation  to  posterity  of  an  image 
of  events  as  clear  as  that  which  he  himself  possessed  in  virtue 
of  personal  observation,  or  life-like  descriptions.  Reflections 
are  none  of  his  business,  for  he  lives  in  the  spirit  of  his  subject ; 
he  has  not  attained  an  elevation  above  it.  If,  as  in  Caesar's  case, 
he  belongs  to  the  exalted  rank  of  generals  or  statesmen,  it  is 
the  prosecution  of  his  own  aims  that  constitutes  the  history. 

Such  speeches  as  we  find  in  Thucydides  (for  example)  of 
which  we  can  positively  assert  that  they  are  not  bona  fide  re- 
ports, would  seem  to  make  against  out  statement  that  a  historian 
of  his  class  presents  us  no  reflected  picture;  that  persons  and 
people  appear  in  his  works  in  propria  persona.  Speeches,  it 
must  be  allowed,  are  veritable  transactions  in  the  human  com- 
monwealth;  in  fact,  very  gravely  influential  transactions.    It 


INTRODUCTION  3 

is,  indeed,  often  said,  "  Such  and  such  things  are  only  talk ; " 
by  way  of  demonstrating  their  harmlessness.  That  for  which 
this  excuse  is  brought  may  be  mere  "  talk  " ;  and  talk  enjoys 
the  important  privilege  of  being  harmless.  But  addresses  of 
peoples  to  peoples,  or  orations  directed  to  nations  and  to  princes, 
are  integrant  constituents  of  history.  Granted  that  such  ora- 
tions as  those  of  Pericles — that  most  profoundly  accomplished, 
genuine,  noble  statesman — were  elaborated  by  Thucydides,  it 
must  yet  be  maintained  that  they  were  not  foreign  to  the  char- 
acter of  the  speaker.  In  the  orations  in  question,  these  men 
proclaim  the  maxims  adopted  by  their  countrymen,  and  which 
formed  their  own  character;  they  record  their  views  of  their 
political  relations,  and  of  their  moral  and  spiritual  nature ;  and 
the  principles  of  their  designs  and  conduct.  What  the  historian 
puts  into  their  mouths  is  no  supposititious  system  of  ideas,  but 
an  uncorrupted  transcript  of  their  intellectual  and  moral  habi- 
tudes. 

Of  these  historians,  whom  we  must  make  thoroughly  our 
own,  with  whom  we  must  linger  long,  if  we  would  live  with 
their  respective  nations,  and  enter  deeply  into  their  spirit:  of 
these  historians,  to  whose  pages  we  may  turn  not  for  the  pur- 
poses of  erudition  merely,  but  with  a  view  to  deep  and  genuine 
enjoyment,  there  are  fewer  than  might  be  imagined.  Herod- 
otus the  Father,  i.e.,  the  Founder  of  History,  and  Thucydides 
have  been  already  mentioned.  Xenophon's  Retreat  of  the  Ten 
Thousand,  is  a  work  equally  original.  Caesar's  Commentaries 
are  the  simple  masterpiece  of  a  mighty  spirit.  Among  the 
ancients,  these  annalists  were  necessarily  great  captains  and 
statesmen.  In  the  Middle  Ages,  if  we  except  the  Bishops,  who 
were  placed  in  the  very  centre  of  the  political  world,  the  Monks 
monopolize  this  category  as  naive  chroniclers  who  were  as  de- 
cidedly isolated  from  active  life  as  those  elder  annalists  had 
been  connected  with  it.  In  modern  times  the  relations  are  en- 
tirely altered.  Our  culture  is  essentially  comprehensive,  and 
immediately  changes  all  events  into  historical  representations. 
Belonging  to  the  class  in  question,  we  have  vivid,  simple,  clear 
narrations — especially  of  military  transactions — which  might 
fairly  take  their  place  with  those  of  Caesar.  In  richness  of 
matter  and  fulness  of  detail  as  regards  strategic  appliances, 
and  attendant  circumstances,  they  are  even  more  instructive. 
The  French  "  Memoires,"  also,  fall  under  this  category.     In 


4  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

many  cases  these  are  written  by  men  of  mark,  though  relating 
to  affairs  of  little  note.  They  not  unfrequently  contain  a  large 
proportion  of  anecdotal  matter,  so  that  the  ground  they  oc- 
cupy is  narrow  and  trivial.  Yet  they  are  often  veritable  master- 
pieces in  history ;  as  those  of  Cardinal  de  Retz,  which  in  fact 
trench  on  a  larger  historical  field.  In  Germany  such  masters 
are  rare.  Frederick  the  Great  ("  Histoire  de  Mon  Temps  ")  is 
an  illustrious  exception.  Writers  of  this  order  must  occupy 
an  elevated  position.  Onlv  from  such  a  position  is  it  possible 
to  take  an  extensive  view  of  affairs — -to  see  everything.  This 
is  out  of  the  question  for  him,  who  from  below  merely  gets 
a  glimpse  of  the  great  world  through  a  miserable  cranny. 

II.  The  second  kind  of  history  we  may  call  the  reflective. 
It  is  history  whose  mode  of  representation  is  not  really  con- 
fined by  the  limits  of  the  time  to  which  it  relates,  but  whose 
spirit  transcends  the  present.  In  this  second  order  a  strongly 
marked  variety  of  species  may  be  distinguished. 

i.  It  is  the  aim  of  the  investigator  to  gain  a  view  of  the 
entire  history  of  a  people  or  a  country,  or  of  the  world,  in 
short,  what  we  call  Universal  History.  In  this  case  the  work- 
ing up  of  the  historical  material  is  the  main  point.  The  work- 
man approaches  his  task  with  his  own  'spirit ;  a  spirit  distinct 
from  that  of  the  element  he  is  to  manipulate.  Here  a  very 
important  consideration  will  be  the  principles  to  which  the  au- 
thor refers  the  bearing  and  motives  of  the  actions  and  events 
which  he  describes,  and  those  which  determine  the  form  of  his 
narrative.  Among  us  Germans  this  reflective  treatment  and 
the  display  of  ingenuity  which  it  occasions  assume  a  manifold 
variety  of  phases.  Every  writer  of  history  proposes  to  himself 
an  original  method.  The  English  and  French  confess  to  gen- 
eral principles  of  historical  composition.  Their  standpoint  is 
more  that  of  cosmopolitan  or  of  national  culture.  Among  us 
each  labors  to  invent  a  purely  individual  point  of  view.  Instead 
of  writing  history,  we  are  always  beating  our  brains  to  discover 
how  history  ought  to  be  written.  This  first  kind  of  Reflective 
History  is  most  nearly  akin  to  the  preceding,  when  it  has  no 
farther  aim  than  to  present  the  annals  of  a  country  complete. 
Such  compilations  (among  which  may  be  reckoned  the  works 
of  Livy,  Diodorus  Siculus,  Johannes  von  Miiller's  History  of 
Switzerland)  are,  if  well  performed,  highly  meritorious. 
Among  the  best  of  the  kind  may  be  reckoned  such  annalists 


INTRODUCTION  5 

as  approach  those  of  the  first  class ;  who  give  so  vivid  a  tran- 
script of  events  that  the  reader  may  well  fancy  himself  lis- 
tening to  contemporaries  and  eye-witnesses.  But  it  often  hap- 
pens that  the  individuality  of  tone  which  must  characterize  a 
writer  belonging  to  a  different  culture  is  not  modified  in 
accordance  with  the  periods  such  a  record  must  traverse.  The 
spirit  of  the  writer  is  quite  other  than  that  of  the  times  of 
which  he  treats.  Thus  Livy  puts  into  the  mouths  of  the  old 
Roman  kings,  consuls,  and  generals  such  orations  as  would 
be  delivered  by  an  accomplished  advocate  of  the  Livian  era, 
and  which  strikingly  contrast  with  the  genuine  traditions  of 
Roman  antiquity  (e.  g.  the  fable  of  Menenius  Agrippa).  In 
the  same  way  he  gives  us  descriptions  of  battles,  as  if  he  had 
been  an  actual  spectator;  but  whose  features  would  serve 
well  enough  for  battles  in  any  period,  and  whose  distinctness 
contrasts  on  the  other  hand  with  the  want  of  connection  and 
the  inconsistency  that  prevail  elsewhere,  even  in  his  treatment 
of  chief  points  of  interest.  The  difference  between  such  a 
compiler  and  an  original  historian  may  be  best  seen  by  com- 
paring Polybius  himself  with  the  style  in  which  Livy  uses, 
expands,  and  abridges  his  annals  in  those  periods  of  which 
Polybius's  account  has  been  preserved.  Johannes  von  Muller 
has  given  a  stiff,  formal,  pedantic  aspect  to  his  history,  in  the 
endeavor  to  remain  faithful  in  his  portraiture  to  the  times 
he  describes.  We  much  prefer  the  narratives  we  find  in  old 
Tschudy.  All  is  more  naive  and  natural  than  it  appears  in 
the  garb  of  a  fictitious  and  affected  archaism. 

A  history  which  aspires  to  traverse  long  periods  of  time, 
or  to  be  universal,  must  indeed  forego  the  attempt  to  give  in- 
dividual representations  of  the  past  as  it  actually  existed.  It 
must  foreshorten  its  pictures  by  abstractions ;  and  this  includes 
not  merely  the  omission  of  events  and  deeds,  but  whatever  is 
involved  in  the  fact  that  Thought  is,  after  all,  the  most  trench- 
ant epitomist.  A  battle,  a  great  victory,  a  siege,  no  longer 
maintains  its  original  proportions,  but  is  put  off  with  a  bare 
mention.  When  Livy,  e.g.,  tells  us  of  the  wars  with  the  Volsci, 
we  sometimes  have  the  brief  announcement :  "  This  year  war 
was  carried  on  with  the  Volsci." 

2.  A  second  species  of  Reflective  History  is  what  we  may 
call  the  Pragmatical.  When  we  have  to  deal  with  the  Past, 
and  occupy  ourselves  with  a  remote  world,  a  Present  rises 


6  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

into  being  for  the  mind — produced  by  its  own  activity,  as  the 
reward  of  its  labor.  The  occurrences  are,  indeed,  various; 
but  the  idea  which  pervades  them — their  deeper  import  and 
connection — is  one.  This  takes  the  occurrence  out  of  the  cate- 
gory of  the  Past  and  makes  it  virtually  Present.  Pragmatical 
(didactic)  reflections,  though  in  their  nature  decidedly  ab- 
stract, are  truly  and  indefeasibly  of  the  Present,  and  quicken 
the  annals  of  the  dead  Past  with  the  life  of  to-day.  Whether, 
indeed,  such  reflections  are  truly  interesting  and  enlivening, 
depends  on  the  writer's  own  spirit.  Moral  reflections  must 
here  be  specially  noticed — the  moral  teaching  expected  from 
history;  which  latter  has  not  infrequently  been  treated  with 
a  direct  view  to  the  former.  It  may  be  allowed  that  examples 
of  virtue  elevate  the  soul,  and  are  applicable  in  the  moral  in- 
struction of  children  for  impressing  excellence  upon  their 
minds.  But  the  destinies  of  peoples  and  states,  their  interests, 
relations,  and  the  complicated  tissue  of  their  affairs,  present 
quite  another  field.  Rulers,  Statesmen,  Nations,  are  wont  to 
be  emphatically  commended  to  the  teaching  which  experience 
offers  in  history.  But  what  experience  and  history  teach  is 
this — that  peoples  and  governments  never  have  learned  any- 
thing from  history,  or  acted  on  principles  deduced  from  it. 
Each  period  is  involved  in  such  peculiar  circumstances,  ex- 
hibits a  condition  of  things  so  strictly  idiosyncratic,  that  its 
conduct  must  be  regulated  by  considerations  connected  with 
itself,  and  itself  alone.  Amid  the  pressure  of  great  events,  a 
general  principle  gives  no  help.  It  is  useless  to  revert  to  simi- 
lar circumstances  in  the  Past.  The  pallid  shades  of  memory 
struggle  in  vain  with  the  life  and  freedom  of  the  Present. 
Looked  at  in  this  light,  nothing  can  be  shallower  than  the  oft- 
repeated  appeal  to  Greek  and  Roman  examples  during  the 
French  Revolution.  Nothing  is  more  diverse  than  the  genius 
of  those  nations  and  that  of  our  times.  Johannes  v.  Muller, 
in  his  "  Universal  History,"  as  also  in  his  "  History  of  Switz- 
erland," had  such  moral  aims  in  view.  He  designed  to  pre- 
pare a  body  of  political  doctrines  for  the  instruction  of  princes, 
governments,  and  peoples  (he  formed  a  special  collection  of 
doctrines  and  reflections — frequently  giving  us  in  his  cor- 
respondence the  exact  number  of  apophthegms  which  he  had 
compiled  in  a  week)  ;  but  he  cannot  reckon  this  part  of  his 
labor  as  among  the  best  that  he  accomplished.     It  is  only  a 


INTRODUCTION  7 

thorough,  liberal,  comprehensive  view  of  historical  relations 
(such  e.g.  as  we  find  in  Montesquieu's  "  Esprit  des  Lois  ") 
that  can  give  truth  and  interest  to  reflections  of  this  order. 
One  Reflective  History,  therefore,  supersedes  another.  The 
materials  are  patent  to  every  writer:  each  is  likely  enough  to 
believe  himself  capable  of  arranging  and  manipulating  them; 
and  we  may  expect  that  each  will  insist  upon  his  own  spirit 
as  that  of  the  age  in  question.  Disgusted  by  such  reflective 
histories,  readers  have  often  returned  with  pleasure  to  a  nar- 
rative adopting  no  particular  point  of  view.  These  certainly 
have  their  value ;  but  for  the  most  part  they  offer  only  material 
for  history.  We  Germans  are  content  with  such.  The  French, 
on  the  other  hand,  display  great  genius  in  reanimating  bygone 
times,  and  in  bringing  the  past  to  bear  upon  the  present  con- 
dition of  things. 

3.  The  third  form  of  Reflective  History  is  the  Critical.  This 
deserves  mention  as  pre-eminently  the  mode  of  treating  his- 
tory now  current  in  Germany.  It  is  not  history  itself  that  is 
here  presented.  We  might  more  properly  designate  it  as  a 
History  of  History ;  a  criticism  of  historical  narratives  and  an 
investigation  of  their  truth  and  credibility.  Its  peculiarity  in 
point  of  fact  and  of  intention,  consists  in  the  acuteness  with 
which  the  writer  extorts  something  from  the  records  which 
was  not  in  the  matters  recorded.  The  French  have  given  us 
much  that  is  profound  and  judicious  in  this  class  of  composi- 
tion. But  they  have  not  endeavored  to  pass  a  merely  critical 
procedure  for  substantial  history.  They  have  duly  presented 
their  judgments  in  the  form  of  critical  treatises.  Among  us, 
the  so-called  "  higher  criticism,"  which  reigns  supreme  in  the 
domain  of  philology,  has  also  taken  possession  of  our  historical 
literature.  This  "  higher  criticism  "  has  been  the  pretext  for 
introducing  all  the  anti-historical  monstrosities  that  a  vain  im- 
agination could  suggest.  Here  we  have  the  other  method  of 
making  the  past  a  living  reality;  putting  subjective  fancies  in 
the  place  of  historical  data;  fancies  whose  merit  is  measured 
by  their  boldness,  that  is,  the  scantiness  of  the  particulars  on 
which  they  are  based,  and  the  peremptoriness  with  which  they 
contravene  the  best  established  facts  of  history. 

4.  The  last  species  of  Reflective  History  announces  its  frag- 
mentary character  on  the  very  face  of  it.  It  adopts  an  abstract 
position;  yet,  since  it  takes  general  points  of  view  (e.g.  as  the 


8  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

History  of  Art,  of  Law,  of  Religion),  it  forms  a  transition 
to  the  Philosophical  History  of  the  World.  In  our  time  this 
form  of  the  history  of  ideas  has  been  more  developed  and 
brought  into  notice.  Such  branches  of  national  life  stand  in 
close  relation  to  the  entire  complex  of  a  people's  annals;  and 
the  question  of  chief  importance  in  relation  to  our  subject  is, 
whether  the  connection  of  the  whole  is  exhibited  in  its  truth 
and  reality,  or  referred  to  merely  external  relations.  In  the 
latter  case,  these  important  phenomena  (Art,  Law,  Religion, 
etc.)  appear  as  purely  accidental  national  peculiarities.  It 
must  be  remarked  that,  when  Reflective  History  has  advanced 
to  the  adoption  of  general  points  of  view,  if  the  position  taken 
is  a  true  one,  these  are  found  to  constitute — not  a  merely  ex- 
ternal thread,  a  superficial  series — but  are  the  inward  guiding 
soul  of  the  occurrences  and  actions  that  occupy  a  nation's 
annals.  For,  like  the  soul-conductor  Mercury,  the  Idea  is  in 
truth,  the  leader  of  peoples  and  of  the  World ;  and  Spirit,  the 
rational  and  necessitated  will  of  that  conductor,  is  and  has 
been  the  director  of  the  events  of  the  World's  History.  To 
become  acquainted  with  Spirit  in  this  its  office  of  guidance, 
is  the  object  of  our  present  undertaking.    This  brings  us  to 

III.  The  third  kind  of  history — the  Philosophical.  No  ex- 
planation was  needed  of  the  two  previous  classes ;  their  nature 
was  self-evident.  It  is  otherwise  with  this  last,  which  cer- 
tainly seems  to  require  an  exposition  or  justification.  The 
most  general  definition  that  can  be  given,  is,  that  the  Philosophy 
of  History  means  nothing  but  the  thoughtful  consideration  of 
it.  Thought  is,  indeed,  essential  to  humanity.  It  is  this  that 
distinguishes  us  from  the  brutes.  In  sensation,  cognition,  and 
intellection;  in  our  instincts  and  volitions,  as  far  as  they  are 
truly  human,  Thought  is  an  invariable  element.  To  insist  upon 
Thought  in  this  connection  with  history  may,  however,  appear 
unsatisfactory.  In  this  science  it  would  seem  as  if  Thought 
must  be  subordinate  to  what  is  given,  to  the  realities  of  fact; 
that  this  is  its  basis  and  guide :  while  Philosophy  dwells  in  the 
region  of  self-produced  ideas,  without  reference  to  actuality. 
Approaching  history  thus  prepossessed,  Speculation  might  be 
expected  to  treat  it  as  a  mere  passive  material ;  and,  so  far 
from  leaving  it  in  its  native  truth,  to  force  it  into  conformity 
with  a  tyrannous  idea,  and  to  construe  it,  as  the  phrase  is,  "  d 
priori"     But  as  it  is  the  business  of  history  simply  to  adopt 


INTRODUCTION  9 

into  its  records  what  is  and  has  been — actual  occurrences  and 
transactions ;  and  since  it  remains  true  to  its  character  in  pro- 
portion as  it  strictly  adheres  to  its  data,  we  seem  to  have  in 
Philosophy,  a  process  diametrically  opposed  to  that  of  the  his- 
toriographer. This  contradiction,  and  the  charge  consequently 
brought  against  speculation,  shall  be  explained  and  confuted. 
We  do  not,  however,  propose  to  correct  the  innumerable  special 
misrepresentations,  trite  or  novel,  that  are  current  respecting 
the  aims,  the  interests,  and  the  modes  of  treating  history,  and 
its  relation  to  Philosophy. 

The  only  Thought  which  Philosophy  brings  with  it  to  the 
contemplation  of  History,  is  the  simple  conception  of  Reason; 
that  Reason  is  the  Sovereign  of  the  World;  that  the  history 
of  the  world,  therefore,  presents  us  with  a  rational  process. 
This  conviction  and  intuition  is  a  hypothesis  in  the  domain  of 
history  as  such.  In  that  of  Philosophy  it  is  no  hypothesis.  It  is 
there  proved  by  speculative  cognition,  that  Reason — and  this 
term  may  here  suffice  us,  without  investigating  the  relation  sus- 
tained by  the  Universe  to  the  Divine  Being — is  Substance,  as 
well  as  Infinite  Power;  its  own  Infinite  Material  underlying 
all  the  natural  and  spiritual  life  which  it  originates,  as  also  the 
Infinite  Form — that  which  sets  this  Material  in  motion.  On 
the  one  hand,  Reason  is  the  substance  of  the  Universe;  viz., 
that  by  which  and  in  which  all  reality  has  its  being  and  sub- 
sistence. On  the  other  hand,  it  is  the  Infinite  Energy  of  the 
Universe ;  since  Reason  is  not  so  powerless  as  to  be  incapable 
of  producing  anything  but  a  mere  ideal,  a  mere  intention — 
having  its  place  outside  reality,  nobody  knows  where;  some- 
thing separate  and  abstract,  in  the  heads  of  certain  human 
beings.  It  is  the  infinite  complex  of  things,  their  entire  Essence 
and  Truth.  It  is  its  own  material  which  it  commits  to  its  own 
Active  Energy  to  work  up ;  not  needing,  as  finite  action  does, 
the  conditions  of  an  external  material  of  given  means  from 
which  it  may  obtain  its  support,  and  the  objects  of  its  activity. 
It  supplies  its  own  nourishment,  and  is  the  object  of  its  own 
operations.  While  it  is  exclusively  its  own  basis  of  existence, 
and  absolute  final  aim,  it  is  also  the  energizing  power  realiz- 
ing this  aim ;  developing  it  not  only  in  the  phenomena  of  the 
Natural,  but  also  of  the  Spiritual  Universe — the  History  of 
the  World.  That  this  "  Idea  "  or  "  Reason  "  is  the  True,  the 
Eternal,  the  absolutely  powerful  essence ;  that  it  reveals  itself 


io  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

in  the  World,  and  that  in  that  World  nothing  else  is  revealed 
but  this  and  its  honor  and  glory — is  the  thesis  which,  as  we 
have  said,  has  been  proved  in  Philosophy,  and  is  here  regarded 
as  demonstrated. 

In  those  of  my  hearers  who  are  not  acquainted  with  Philos- 
ophy, I  may  fairly  presume,  at  least,  the  existence  of  a  belief 
in  Reason,  a  desire,  a  thirst  for  acquaintance  with  it,  in  enter- 
ing upon  this  course  of  Lectures.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  wish  for 
rational  insight,  not  the  ambition  to  amass  a  mere  heap  of 
acquirements,  that  should  be  presupposed  in  every  case  as  pos- 
sessing the  mind  of  the  learner  in  the  study  of  science.  If  the 
clear  idea  of  Reason  is  not  already  developed  in  our  minds,  in 
beginning  the  study  of  Universal  History,  we  should  at  least 
have  the  firm,  unconquerable  faith  that  Reason  does  exist  there ; 
and  that  the  World  of  intelligence  and  conscious  volition  is  not 
abandoned  to  chance,  but  must  show  itself  in  the  light  of  the 
self-cognizant  Idea.  Yet  I  am  not  obliged  to  make  any  such 
preliminary  demand  upon  your  faith.  What  I  have  said  thus 
provisionally,  and  what  I  shall  have  further  to  say,  is,  even  in 
reference  to  our  branch  of  science,  not  to  be  regarded  as  hypo- 
thetical, but  as  a  summary  view  of  the  whole ;  the  result  of  the 
investigation  we  are  about  to  pursue ;  a  result  which  happens 
to  be  known  to  me,  because  I  have  traversed  the  entire  field. 
It  is  only  an  inference  from  the  history  of  the  World,  that  its 
development  has  been  a  rational  process;  that  the  history  in 
question  has  constituted  the  rational  necessary  course  of  the 
World-Spirit — that  Spirit  whose  nature  is  always  one  and  the 
same,  but  which  unfolds  this  its  one  nature  in  the  phenomena 
of  the  World's  existence.  This  must,  as  before  stated,  pre- 
sent itself  as  the  ultimate  result  of  History.  But  we  have  to 
take  the  latter  as  it  is.  We  must  proceed  historically — em- 
pirically. Among  other  precautions  we  must  take  care  not 
to  be  misled  by  professed  historians  who  (especially  among  the 
Germans,  and  enjoying  a  considerable  authority),  are  charge- 
able with  the  very  procedure  of  which  they  accuse  the  Philos- 
opher— introducing  a  priori  inventions  of  their  own  into  the 
records  of  the  Past.  It  is,  for  example,  a  widely  current  fiction, 
that  there  was  an  original  primeval  people,  taught  immediately 
by  God,  endowed  with  perfect  insight  and  wisdom,  possessing 
a  thorough  knowledge  of  all  natural  laws  and  spiritual  truth ; 
that  there  have  been  such  or  such  sacerdotal  peoples;   or,  to 


INTRODUCTION  II 

mention  a  more  specific  averment,  that  there  was  a  Roman 
Epos,  from  which  the  Roman  historians  derived  the  early  an- 
nals of  their  city,  etc.  Authorities  of  this  kind  we  leave  to 
those  talented  historians  by  profession,  among  whom  (in  Ger- 
many at  least)  their  use  is  not  uncommon. — We  might  then 
announce  it  as  the  first  condition  to  be  observed,  that  we  should 
faithfully  adopt  all  that  is  historical.  But  in  such  general  ex- 
pressions themselves,  as  "  faithfully  "  and  "  adopt,"  lies  the 
ambiguity.  Even  the  ordinary,  the  "  impartial "  historiog- 
rapher, who  believes  and  professes  that  he  maintains  a  simply 
receptive  attitude;  surrendering  himself  only  to  the  data  sup- 
plied him — is  by  no  means  passive  as  regards  the  exercise  of 
his  thinking  powers.  He  brings  his  categories  with  him,  and 
sees  the  phenomena  presented  to  his  mental  vision,  exclusively 
through  these  media.  And,  especially  in  all  that  pretends  to 
the  name  of  science,  it  is  indispensable  that  Reason  should  not 
sleep — that  reflection  should  be  in  full  play.  To  him  who 
looks  upon  the  world  rationally,  the  world  in  its  turn  presents 
a  rational  aspect.  The  relation  is  mutual.  But  the  various 
exercises  of  reflection — the  different  points  of  view— the  modes 
of  deciding  the  simple  question  of  the  relative  importance  of 
events  (the  first  category  that  occupies  the  attention  of  the 
historian),  do  not  belong  to  this  place. 

I  will  only  mention  two  phases  and  points  of  view  that  con- 
cern the  generally  diffused  conviction  that  Reason  has  ruled, 
and  is  still  ruling  in  the  world,  and  consequently  in  the  world's 
history ;  because  they  give  us,  at  the  same  time,  an  opportunity 
for  more  closely  investigating  the  question  that  presents  the 
greatest  difficulty,  and  for  indicating  a  branch  of  the  subject, 
which  will  have  to  be  enlarged  on  in  the  sequel. 

I.  One  of  these  points  is,  that  passage  in  history,  which  in- 
forms us  that  the  Greek  Anaxagoras  was  the  first  to  enunciate 
the  doctrine  that  vovs,  Understanding  generally,  or  Reason, 
governs  the  world.  It  is  not  intelligence  as  self-conscious  Rea- 
son— not  a  Spirit  as  such  that  is  meant;  and  we  must  clearly 
distinguish  these  from  each  other.  The  movement  of  the  solar 
system  takes  place  according  to  unchangeable  laws.  These 
laws  are  Reason,  implicit  in  the  phenomena  in  question.  But 
neither  the  sun  nor  the  planets,  which  revolve  around  it  ac- 
cording to  these  laws,  can  be  said  to  have  any  consciousness 
of  them, 

Vol.  23  B— Classics 


12  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY; 

A  thought  of  this  kind — that  Nature  is  an  embodiment  of 
Reason ;  that  it  is  unchangeably  subordinate  to  universal  laws, 
appears  nowise  striking  or  strange  to  us.  We  are  accustomed 
to  such  conceptions,  and  find  nothing  extraordinary  in  them. 
And  I  have  mentioned  this  extraordinary  occurrence,  partly 
to  show  how  history  teaches,  that  ideas  of  this  kind,  which 
may  seem  trivial  to  us,  have  not  always  been  in  the  world; 
that,  on  the  contrary,  such  a  thought  makes  an  epoch  in  the 
annals  of  human  intelligence.  Aristotle  says  of  Anaxagoras, 
as  the  originator  of  the  thought  in  question,  that  he  appeared 
as  a  sober  man  among  the  drunken.  Socrates  adopted  the 
doctrine  from  Anaxagoras,  and  it  forthwith  became  the  ruling 
idea  in  Philosophy— except  in  the  school  of  Epicurus,  who 
ascribed  all  events  to  chance.  "  I  was  delighted  with  the  sen- 
timent " — Plato  makes  Socrates  say — "  and  hoped  I  had  found 
a  teacher  who  would  show  me  Nature  in  harmony  with  Rea- 
son, who  would  demonstrate  in  each  particular  phenomenon 
its  specific  aim,  and  in  the  whole,  the  grand  object  of  the  Uni- 
verse. I  would  not  have  surrendered  this  hope  for  a  great  deal. 
But  how  very  much  was  I  disappointed,  when,  having  zealously 
applied  myself  to  the  writings  of  Anaxagoras,  I  found  that  he 
adduces  only  external  causes,  such  as  Atmosphere,  Ether, 
Water,  and  the  like."  It  is  evident  that  the  defect  which 
Socrates  complains  of  respecting  Anaxagoras's  doctrine,  does 
not  concern  the  principle  itself,  but  the  shortcoming  of  the 
propounder  in  applying  it  to  Nature  in  the  concrete.  Nature 
is  not  deduced  from  that  principle:  the  latter  remains  in  fact 
a  mere  abstraction,  inasmuch  as  the  former  is  not  compre- 
hended and  exhibited  as  a  development  of  it — an  organization 
produced  by  and  from  Reason.  I  wish,  at  the  very  outset,  to 
call  your  attention  to  the  important  difference  between  a  con- 
ception, a  principle,  a  truth  limited  to  an  abstract  form  and  its 
determinate  application,  and  concrete  development.  This  dis- 
tinction affects  the  whole  fabric  of  philosophy;  and  among 
other  bearings  of  it  there  is  one  to  which  we  shall  have  to  re- 
vert at  the  close  of  our  view  of  Universal  History,  in  investigat- 
ing the  aspect  of  political  affairs  in  the  most  recent  period. 

We  have  next  to  notice  the  rise  of  this  idea — that  Reason 
directs  the  World — in  connection  with  a  further  application 
of  it,  well  known  to  us — in  the  form,  viz.,  of  the  religious  truth, 
that  the  world  is  not  abandoned  to  chgnce  and  external  con- 


INTRODUCTION 


13 


tingent  causes,  but  that  a  Providence  controls  it.  I  stated  above, 
that  I  would  not  make  a  demand  on  your  faith,  in  regard  to  the 
principle  announced.  Yet  I  might  appeal  to  your  belief  in  it, 
in  this  religious  aspect,  if,  as  a  general  rule,  the  nature  of  philo- 
sophical science  allowed  it  to  attach  authority  to  presupposi- 
tions. To  put  it  in  another  shape — this  appeal  is  forbidden, 
because  the  science  of  which  we  have  to  treat,  proposes  itself 
to  furnish  the  proof  (not  indeed  of  the  abstract  Truth  of  the 
doctrine,  but)  of  its  correctness  as  compared  with  facts.  The 
truth,  then,  that  a  Providence  (that  of  God)  presides  over  the 
events  of  the  World — consorts  with  the  proposition  in  question ; 
for  Divine  Providence  is  Wisdom,  endowed  with  an  infinite 
Power,  which  realizes  its  aim,  viz.,  the  absolute  rational  design 
of  the  World.  Reason ,  is  Thought  conditioning  itself  with 
perfect  freedom.  But  a  difference — rather  a  contradiction — 
will  manifest  itself,  between  this  belief  and  our  principle,  just 
as  was  the  case  in  reference  to  the  demand  made  by  Socrates 
in  the  case  of  Anaxagoras's  dictum.  For  that  belief  is  simi- 
larly indefinite ;  it  is  what  is  called  a  belief  in  a  general  Provi- 
dence, and  is  not  followed  out  into  definite  application,  or  dis- 
played in  its  bearing  on  the  grand  total — the  entire  course  of 
human  history.  But  to  explain  History  is  to  depict  the  pas- 
sions of  mankind,  the  genius,  the  active  powers,  that  play  their 
part  on  the  great  stage ;  and  the  providentially  determined 
process  which  these  exhibit,  constitutes  what  is  generally  called 
the  "  plan  "  of  Providence.  Yet  it  is  this  very  plan  which 
is  supposed  to  be  concealed  from  our  view :  which  it  is  deemed 
presumption,  even  to  wish  to  recognize.  The  ignorance  of 
Anaxagoras,  as  to  how  intelligence  reveals  itself  in  actual 
existence,  was  ingenuous.  Neither  in  his  consciousness,  nor 
in  that  of  Greece  at  large,  had  that  thought  been  farther  ex- 
panded. He  had  not  attained  the  power  to  apply  his  general 
principle  to  the  concrete,  so  as  to  deduce  the  latter  from  the 
former.  It  was  Socrates  who  took  the  first  step  in  compre- 
hending the  union  of  the  Concrete  with  the  Universal.  Anax- 
agoras, then,  did  not  take  up  a  hostile  position  toward  such  an 
application.  The  common  belief  in  Providence  does;  at  least 
it  opposes  the  use  of  the  principle  on  the  large  scale,  and  denies 
the  possibility  of  discerning  the  plan  of  Providence.  In  isolated 
cases  this  plan  is  supposed  to  be  manifest.  Pious  persons  are 
encouraged  to  recognize  in  particular  circumstances,  something 


i4  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

more  than  mere  chance;  to  acknowledge  the  guiding  hand  of 
God;  e.g.,  when  help  has  unexpectedly  come  to  an  individual 
in  great  perplexity  and  need.  But  these  instances  of  provi- 
dential design  are  of  a  limited  kind,  and  concern  the  accom- 
plishment of  nothing  more  than  the  desires  of  the  individual 
in  question.  But  in  the  history  of  the  World,  the  Individuals 
\vg.  have  to  do  with  are  Peoples;  Totalities  that  are  States. 
We  cannot,  therefore,  be  satisfied  with  what  we  may  call  this 
"  peddling  "  view  of  Providence,  to  which  the  belief  alluded  to 
limits  itself.  Equally  unsatisfactory  is  the  merely  abstract, 
undefined  belief  in  a  Providence,  when  that  belief  is  not  brought 
to  bear  upon  the  details  of  the  process  which  it  conducts.  On 
the  contrary  our  earnest  endeavor  must  be  directed  to  the  rec- 
ognition of  the  ways  of  Providence,  the  means  it  uses,  and  the 
historical  phenomena  in  which  it  manifests  itself;  and  we  must 
show  their  connection  with  the  general  principle  above  men- 
tioned. But  in  noticing  the  recognition  of  the  plan  of  Divine 
Providence  generally,  I  have  implicitly  touched  upon  a  promi- 
nent question  of  the  day ;  viz.,  that  of  the  possibility  of  know- 
ing God:  or  rather — since  public  opinion  has  ceased  to  allow 
it  to  be  a  matter  of  question — the  doctrine  that  it  is  impossible 
to  know  God.  In  direct  contravention  of  what  is  commanded 
in  holy  Scripture  as  the  highest  duty — that  we  should  not 
merely  love,  but  know  God — the  prevalent  dogma  involves  the 
denial  .of  what  is  there  said;  viz.,  that  it  is  the  Spirit  (der 
Geist)  that  leads  into  Truth,  knows  all  things,  penetrates  even 
into  the  deep  things  of  the  Godhead.  While  the  Divine  Being 
is  thus  placed  beyond  our  knowledge,  and  outside  the  limit  of 
all  human  things,  we  have  the  convenient  license  of  wandering 
as  far  as  we  list,  in  the  direction  of  our  own  fancies.  We  are 
freed  from  the  obligation  to  refer  our  knowledge  to  the  Divine 
and  True.  On  the  other  hand,  the  vanity  and  egotism  which 
characterize  it  find,  in  this  false  position,  ample  justification; 
and  the  pious  modesty  which  puts  far  from  it  the  knowledge 
of  God  can  well  estimate  how  much  furtherance  thereby  ac- 
crues to  its  own  wayward  and  vain  strivings.  I  have  been 
unwilling  to  leave  out  of  sight  the  connection  between  our 
thesis — that  Reason  governs  and  has  governed  the  World — 
and  the  question  of  the  possibility  of  a  knowledge  of  God, 
chiefly  that  I  might  not  lose  the  opportunity  of  mentioning  the 
imputation  against  Philosophy  of  being  shy  of  noticing  re- 


INTRODUCTION  15 

Iigious  truths,  or  of  having  occasion  to  be  so;  in  which  is 
insinuated  the  suspicion  that  it  has  anything  but  a  clear  con- 
science in  the  presence  of  these  truths.  So  far  from  this  being 
the  case,  the  fact  is,  that  in  recent  times  Philosophy  has  been 
obliged  to  defend  the  domain  of  religion  against  the  attacks 
of  several  theological  systems.  In  the  Christian  religion  God 
has  revealed  Himself — that  is,  he  has  given  us  to  understand 
what  He  is;  so  that  He  is  no  longer  a  concealed  or  secret 
existence.  And  this  possibility  of  knowing  Him,  thus  afforded 
us,  renders  such  knowledge  a  duty.  God  wishes  no  narrow- 
hearted  souls  or  empty  heads  for  his  children ;  but  those  whose 
spirit  is  of  itself  indeed  poor,  but  rich  in  the  knowledge  of 
Him ;  and  who  regard  this  knowledge  of  God  as  the  only  valu- 
able possession.  That  development  of  the  thinking  spirit 
which  has  resulted  from  the  revelation  of  the  Divine  Being  as 
its  original  basis  must  ultimately  advance  to  the  intellectual 
comprehension  of  what  was  presented  in  the  first  instance,  to 
feeling  and  imagination.  The  time  must  eventually  come  for 
understanding  that  rich  product  of  active  Reason,  which  the 
History  of  the  World  offers  to  us.  It  was  for  awhile  the  fash- 
ion to  profess  admiration  for  the  wisdom  of  God  as  displayed 
in  animals,  plants,  and  isolated  occurrences.  But,  if  it  be  al- 
lowed that  Providence  manifests  itself  in  such  objects  and 
forms  of  existence,  why  not  also  in  Universal  History?  This 
is  deemed  too  great  a  matter  to  be  thus  regarded.  But  Divine 
Wisdom,  i.e.,  Reason,  is  one  and  the  same  in  the  great  as  in  the 
little ;  and  we  must  not  imagine  God  to  be  too  weak  to  exercise 
his  wisdom  on  the  grand  scale.  Our  intellectual  striving  aims 
at  realizing  the  conviction  that  what  was  intended  by  eternal 
wisdom,  is  actually  accomplished  in  the  domain  of  existent, 
active  Spirit,  as  well  as  in  that  of  mere  Nature.  Our  mode 
of  treating  the  subject  is,  in  this  aspect,  a  Theodicsea — a  justifi- 
cation of  the  ways  of  God — which  Leibnitz  attempted  meta- 
physically, in  his  method,  i.e.,  in  indefinite  abstract  categories — ■ 
so  that  the  ill  that  is  found  in  the  World  may  be  comprehended, 
and  the  thinking  Spirit  reconciled  with  the  fact  of  the  existence 
of  evil.  Indeed,  nowhere  is  such  a  harmonizing  view  more 
pressingly  demanded  than  in  Universal  History;  and  it  can 
be  attained  only  by  recognizing  the  positive  existence,  in  which 
that  negative  element  is  a  subordinate,  and  vanquished  nullity. 
On  the  one  hand,  the  ultimate  design  of  the  World  must  be 


16  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

perceived;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  fact  that  this  design 
has  been  actually  realized  in  it,  and  that  evil  has  not  been 
able  permanently  to  assert  a  competing  position.  But  this 
superintending  vovs,  or  in  "  Providence."  "  Reason,"  whose 
sovereignty  over  the  World  has  been  maintained,  is  as  indefi- 
nite a  term  as  "  Providence,"  supposing  the  term  to  be  used 
by  those  who  are  unable  to  characterize  it  distinctly — to  show 
wherein  it  consists,  so  as  to  enable  us  to  decide  whether  a 
thing  is  rational  or  irrational.  An  adequate  definition  of  Rea- 
son is  the  first  desideratum ;  and  whatever  boast  may  be  made 
of  strict  adherence  to  it  in  explaining  phenomena — without 
such  a  definition  we  get  no  farther  than  mere  words.  With 
these  observations  we  may  proceed  to  the  second  point  of  view 
that  has  to  be  considered  in  this  Introduction. 

II.  The  inquiry  into  the  essential  destiny  of  Reason — as  far 
as  it  is  considered  in  reference  to  the  World — is  identical  with 
the  question,  what  is  the  ultimate  design  of  the  World?  And 
the  expression  implies  that  that  design  is  destined  to  be  real- 
ized. Two  points  of  consideration  suggest  themselves;  first, 
the  import  of  this  design — its  abstract  definition ;  and  secondly, 
its  realisation. 

It  must  be  observed  at  the  outset,  that  the  phenomenon  we 
investigate — Universal  History — belongs  to  the  realm  of  Spirit. 
The  term  "  World/'  includes  both  physical  and  psychical  Nat- 
ure. Physical  Nature  also  plays  its  part  in  the  World's  His- 
tory, and  attention  will  have  to  be  paid  to  the  fundamental 
natural  relations  thus  involved.  But  Spirit,  and  the  course  of 
its  development,  is  our  substantial  object.  Our  task  does  not 
require  us  to  contemplate  Nature  as  a  Rational  System  in  itself 
— though  in  its  own  proper  domain  it  proves  itself  such — but 
simply  in  its  relation  to  Spirit.  On  the  stage  on  which  we  are 
observing  it — Universal  History — Spirit  displays  itself  in  its 
most  concrete  reality.  Notwithstanding  this  (or  rather  for  the 
very  purpose  of  comprehending  the  general  principles  which 
this,  its  form  of  concrete  reality,  embodies)  we  must  premise 
some  abstract  characteristics  of  the  nature  of  Spirit.  Such  an 
explanation,  however,  cannot  be  given  here  under  any  other 
form  than  that  of  bare  assertion.  The  present  is  not  the  occa- 
sion for  unfolding  the  idea  of  Spirit  speculatively ;  for  what- 
ever has  a  place  in  an  Introduction,  must,  as  already  observed, 
be  taken  as  simply  historical;   something  assumed  as  having 


INTRODUCTION  17 

been  explained  and  proved  elsewhere ;  or  whose  demonstration 
awaits  the  sequel  of  the  Science  of  History  itself. 
We  have  therefore  to  mention  here : 

( 1 )  The  abstract  characteristics  of  the  nature  of  Spirit. 

(2)  What  means  Spirit  uses  in  order  to  realize  its  Idea. 

(3)  Lastly,  we  must  consider  the  shape  which  the  per- 
fect embodiment  of  Spirit  assumes — the  State. 

(1)  The  nature  of  Spirit  may  be  understood  by  a  glance 
at  its  direct  opposite — Matter.  As  the  essence  of  Matter  is 
Gravity,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  we  may  affirm  that  the  substance, 
the  essence  of  Spirit  is  Freedom.  All  will  readily  assent  to 
the  doctrine  that  Spirit,  among  other  properties,  is  also  en- 
dowed with  Freedom ;  but  philosophy  teaches  that  all  the  qual- 
ities of  Spirit  exist  only  through  Freedom;  that  all  are  but 
means  for  attaining  Freedom;  that  all  seek  and  produce  this 
and  this  alone.  It  is  a  result  of  speculative  Philosophy  that 
Freedom  is  the  sole  truth  of  Spirit.  Matter  possesses  gravity 
in  virtue  of  its  tendency  toward  a  central  point.  It  is  essen- 
tially composite;  consisting  of  parts  that  exclude  each  other. 
It  seeks  its  Unity;  and  therefore  exhibits  itself  as  self-de- 
structive, as  verging  toward  its  opposite  [an  indivisible  point]. 
If  it  could  attain  this,  it  would  be  Matter  no  longer,  it  would 
have  perished.  It  strives  after  the  realization  of  its  Idea; 
for  in  Unity  it  exists  ideally.  Spirit,  on  the  contrary,  may  be 
denned  as  that  which  has  its  centre  in  itself.  It  has  not  a 
unity  outside  itself,  but  has  already  found  it ;  it  exists  in  and 
with  itself.  Matter  has  its  essence  out  of  itself ;  Spirit  is  self- 
contained  existence  (Bei-sich-selbst-seyn).  Now  this  is  Free- 
dom, exactly.  For  if  I  am  dependent,  my  being  is  referred  to 
something  else  which  I  am  not ;  I  cannot  exist  independently 
of  something  external.  I  am  free,  on  the  contrary,  when  my 
existence  depends  upon  myself.  This  self-contained  existence 
of  Spirit  is  none  other  than  self-consciousness — consciousness 
of  one's  own  being.  Two  things  must  be  distinguished  in  con- 
sciousness ;  first,  the  fact  that  I  know;  secondly,  what  I  know. 
In  self  consciousness  these  are  merged  in  one ;  for  Spirit  knows 
itself.  It  involves  an  appreciation  of  its  own  nature,  as  also 
an  energy  enabling  it  to  realize  itself;  to  make  itself  actually 
that  which  it  is  potentially.  According  to  this  abstract  defini- 
tion it  may  be  said  of  Universal  History,  that  it  is  the  exhibi- 
tion of  Spirit  in  the  process  of  working  out  the  knowledge  of 


18  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

that  which  it  is  potentially.  And  as  the  germ  bears  in  itself 
the  whole  nature  of  the  tree,  and  the  taste  and  form  of  its 
fruits,  so  do  the  first  traces  of  Spirit  virtually  contain  the  whole 
of  that  History.  The  Orientals  have  not  attained  the  knowl- 
edge that  Spirit — Man  as  such — is  free ;  and  because  they 
do  not  know  this,  they  are  not  free.  They  only  know  that 
one  is  free.  But  on  this  very  account,  the  freedom  of  that  one 
is  only  caprice;  ferocity — brutal  recklessness  of  passion,  or 
a  mildness  and  tameness  of  the  desires,  which  is  itself  only 
an  accident  of  Nature — mere  caprice  like  the  former. — That 
one  is  therefore  only  a  Despot ;  not  a  free  man.  The  conscious- 
ness of  Freedom  first  arose  among  the  Greeks,  and  therefore 
they  were  free ;  but  they,  and  the  Romans  likewise,  knew  only 
that  some  are  free — not  man  as  such.  Even  Plato  and  Aris- 
totle did  not  know  this.  The  Greeks,  therefore,  had  slaves; 
and  their  whole  life  and  the  maintenance  of  their  splendid  lib- 
erty, was  implicated  with  the  institution  of  slavery:  a  fact 
moreover,  which  made  that  liberty  on  the  one  hand  only  an 
accidental,  transient  and  limited  growth;  on  the  other  hand, 
constituted  it  a  rigorous  thraldom  of  our  common  nature — of 
the  Human.  The  German  nations,  under  the  influence  of  Chris- 
tianity, were  the  first  to  attain  the  consciousness  that  man,  as 
man,  is  free :  that  it  is  the  freedom  of  Spirit  which  constitutes 
its  essence.  This  consciousness  arose  first  in  religion,  the  in- 
most region  of  Spirit;  but  to  introduce  the  principle  into  the 
various  relations  of  the  actual  world  involves  a  more  extensive 
problem  than  its  simple  implantation;  a  problem  whose  solu- 
tion and  application  require  a  severe  and  lengthened  process 
of  culture.  In  proof  of  this,  we  may  note  that  slavery  did  not 
cease  immediately  on  the  reception  of  Christianity.  Still  less 
did  liberty  predominate  in  States ;  or  Governments  and  Consti- 
tutions adopt  a  rational  organization,  or  recognize  freedom 
as  their  basis.  That  application  of  the  principle  to  political  re- 
lations ;  the  thorough  moulding  and  interpenetration  of  the 
constitution  of  society  by  it,  is  a  process  identical  with  history 
itself.  I  have  already  directed  attention  to  the  distinction  here 
involved,  between  a  principle  as  such,  and  its  application;  i.e., 
its  introduction  and  carrying  out  in  the  actual  phenomena  of 
Spirit  and  Life.  This  is  a  point  of  fundamental  importance 
in  our  science,  and  one  which  must  be  constantly  respected  as 
essential.     And  in  the  same  way  as  this  distinction  has  at- 


INTRODUCTION  19 

tracted  attention  in  view  of  the  Christian  principle  of  self-con- 
sciousness— Freedom;  it  also  shows  itself  as  an  essential  one, 
in  view  of  the  principle  of  Freedom  generally.  The  History  of 
the  world  is  none  other  than  the  progress  of  the  consciousness 
of  Freedom;  a  progress  whose  development  according  to  the 
necessity  of  its  nature,  it  is  our  business  to  investigate. 

The  general  statement  given  above,  of  the  various  grades  in 
the  consciousness  of  Freedom — and  which  we  applied  in  the 
first  instance  to  the  fact  that  the  Eastern  nations  knew  only 
that  one  is  free;  the  Greek  and  Roman  world  only  that  some 
are  free ;  while  we  know  that  all  men  absolutely  (man  as  man) 
are  free — supplies  us  with  the  natural  division  of  Universal 
History,  and  suggests  the  mode  of  its  discussion.  This  is 
remarked,  however,  only  incidentally  and  anticipatively ;  some 
other  ideas  must  be  first  explained. 

The  destiny  of  the  spiritual  World,  and — since  this  is  the 
substantial  World,  while  the  physical  remains  subordinate  to 
it,  or,  in  the  language  of  speculation,  has  no  truth  as  against 
the  spiritual — the  final  cause  of  the  World  at  large,  we  allege 
to  be  the  consciousness  of  its  own  freedom  on  the  part  of  Spirit, 
and  ipso  facto,  the  reality  of  that  freedom.  But  that  this  term 
"  Freedom,"  without  further  qualification,  is  an  indefinite,  and 
incalculable  ambiguous  term;  and  that  while  that  which  it 
represents  is  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  attainment,  it  is  liable  to  an 
infinity  of  misunderstandings,  confusions  and  errors,  and  to 
become  the  occasion  for  all  imaginable  excesses — has  never 
been  more  clearly  known  and  felt  than  in  modern,  times.  Yet, 
for  the  present,  we  must  content  ourselves  with  the  term  itself 
without  farther  definition.  Attention  was  also  directed  to  the 
importance  of  the  infinite  difference  between  a  principle  in  the 
abstract,  and  its  realization  in  the  concrete.  In  the  process 
before  us,  the  essential  nature  of  freedom — which  involves  in 
it  absolute  necessity — is  to  be  displayed  as  coming  to  a  con- 
sciousness of  itself  (for  it  is  in  its  very  nature,  self-conscious- 
ness) and  thereby  realizing  its  existence.  Itself  is  its  own 
object  of  attainment,  and  the  sole  aim  of  Spirit.  This  result 
it  is,  at  which  the  process  of  the  World's  History  has  been  con- 
tinually aiming :  and  to  which  the  sacrifices  that  have  ever  and 
anon  been  laid  on  the  vast  altar  of  the  earth,  through  the  long 
lapse  of  ages,  have  been  offered.  This  is  the  only  aim  that  sees 
itself  realized  and  fulfilled;  the  only  pole  of  repose  amid  the 


2o  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

ceaseless  change  of  events  and  conditions,  and  the  sole  efficient 
principle  that  pervades  them.  This  final  aim  is  God's  purpose 
with  the  world ;  but  God  is  the  absolutely  perfect  Being,  and 
can,  therefore,  will  nothing  other  than  himself — his  own  Will. 
The  Nature  of  His  Will — that  is,  His  Nature  itself — is  what 
we  here  call  the  Idea  of  Freedom ;  translating  the  language  of 
Religion  into  that  of  Thought.  The  question,  then,  which  we 
may  next  put  is :  What  means  does  this  principle  of  Freedom 
use  for  its  realization?  This  is  the  second  point  we  have  to 
consider. 

(2)  The  question  of  the  means  by  which  Freedom  develops 
itself  to  a  World,  conducts  us  to  the  phenomenon  of  History 
itself.  Although  Freedom  is,  primarily,  an  undeveloped  idea, 
the  means  it  uses  are  external  and  phenomenal ;  presenting 
themselves  in  History  to  our  sensuous  vision.  The  first  glance 
at  History  convinces  us  that  the  actions  of  men  proceed  from 
their  needs,  their  passions,  their  characters  and  talents;  and 
impresses  us  with  the  belief  that  such  needs,  passions  and  in- 
terests are  the  sole  springs  of  action — the  efficient  agents  in 
this  scene  of  activity.  Among  these  may,  perhaps,  be  found 
aims  of  a  liberal  or  universal  kind — benevolence  it  may  be,  or 
noble  patriotism ;  but  such  virtues  and  general  views  are  but 
insignificant  as  compared  with  the  World  and  its  doings.  We 
may  perhaps  see  the  Ideal  of  Reason  actualized  in  those  who 
adopt  such  aims,  and  within  the  sphere  of  their  influence ;  but 
they  bear  only  a  trifling  proportion  to  the  mass  of  the  human 
race ;  and  the  extent  of  that  influence  is  limited  accordingly. 
Passions,  private  aims,  and  the  satisfaction  of  selfish  desires, 
are  on  the  other  hand,  most  effective  springs  of  action.  Their 
power  lies  in  the  fact  that  they  respect  none  of  the  limitations 
which  justice  and  morality  would  impose  on  them;  and  that 
these  natural  impulses  have  a  more  direct  influence  over  man 
than  the  artificial  and  tedious  discipline  that  tends  to  order  and 
self-restraint,  law  and  morality.  When  we  look  at  this  display 
of  passions,  and  the  consequences  of  their  violence;  the  Un- 
reason which  is  associated  not  only  with  them,  but  even  (rather 
we  might  say  especially)  with  good  designs  and  righteous  aims ; 
when  we  see  the  evil,  the  vice,  the  ruin  that  has  befallen  the 
most  flourishing  kingdoms  which  the  mind  of  man  ever  created ; 
we  can  scarce  avoid  being  filled  with  sorrow  at  thfs  universal 
taint  of  corruption:   and,  since  this  decay  is  not  the  work  of 


INTRODUCTION  21 

mere  Nature,  but  of  the  Human  Will — a  moral  embitterment — 
a  revolt  of  the  Good  Spirit  (if  it  have  a  place  within  us)  may 
well  be  the  result  of  our  reflections.  Without  rhetorical  ex- 
aggeration, a  simply  truthful  combination  of  the  miseries  that 
have  overwhelmed  the  noblest  of  nations  and  polities,  and  the 
finest  exemplars  of  private  virtue — forms  a  picture  of  most 
fearful  aspect,  and  excites  emotions  of  the  profoundest  and 
most  hopeless  sadness,  counterbalanced  by  no  consolatory  re- 
sult. We  endure  in  beholding  it  a  mental  torture,  allowing 
no  defence  or  escape  but  the  consideration  that  what  has  hap- 
pened could  not  be  otherwise;  that  it  is  a  fatality  which  no 
intervention  could  alter.  And  at  last  we  draw  back  from  the 
intolerable  disgust  with  which  these  sorrowful  reflections 
threaten  us,  into  the  more  agreeable  environment  of  our  indi- 
vidual life — the  Present  formed  by  our  private  aims  and  in- 
terests. In  short  we  retreat  into  the  selfishness  that  stands  on 
the  quiet  shore,  and  thence  enjoys  in  safety  the  distant  spectacle 
of  "  wrecks  confusedly  hurled."  But  even  regarding  History 
as  the  slaughter-bench  at  which  the  happiness  of  peoples,  the 
wisdom  of  States,  and  the  virtue  of  individuals  have  been  vic- 
timized— the  question  involuntarily  arises — to  what  principle, 
to  what  final  aim  these  enormous  sacrifices  have  been  offered. 
From  this  point  the  investigation  usually  proceeds  to  that 
which  we  have  made  the  general  commencement  of  our  in- 
quiry. Starting  from  this  we  pointed  out  those  phenomena 
which  made  up  a  picture  so  suggestive  of  gloomy  emotions 
and  thoughtful  reflections — as  the  very  Held  which  we,  for  our 
part,  regard  as  exhibiting  only  the  means  for  realizing  what 
we  assert  to  be  the  essential  destiny — the  absolute  aim,  or — 
which  comes  to  the  same  thing — the  true  result  of  the  World's 
History.  We  have  all  along  purposely  eschewed  "  moral  re- 
flections "  as  a  method  of  rising  from  the  scene  of  historical 
specialties  to  the  general  principles  which  they  embody.  Be- 
sides, it  is,  not  the  interest  of  such  sentimentalities,  really  to 
rise  above  those  depressing  emotions ;  and  to  solve  the  enigmas 
of  Providence  which  the  considerations  that  occasioned  them, 
present.  It  is  essential  to  their  character  to  find  a  gloomy  sat- 
isfaction in  the  empty  and  fruitless  sublimities  of  that  negative 
result.  We  return  them  to  the  point  of  view  which  we  have 
adopted;  observing  that  the  successive  steps  (momente)  of 
the  analysis  to  which  it  will  lead  us,  will  also  evolve  the  con- 


22  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

ditions  requisite  for  answering  the  inquiries  suggested  by  the 
panorama  of  sin  and  suffering  that  history  unfolds. 

The  first  remark  we  have  to  make,  and  which — though  al- 
ready presented  more  than  once — cannot  be  too  often  repeated 
when  the  occasion  seems  to  call  for  it — is  that  what  we  call 
principle,  aim,  destiny,  or  the  nature  and  idea  of  Spirit,  is  some- 
thing merely  general  and  abstract.  Principle — Plan  of  Exist- 
ence— Law — is  a  hidden,  undeveloped  essence,  which  as  such 
— however  true  in  itself — is  not  completely  real.  Aims,  prin- 
ciples, etc.,  have  a  place  in  our  thoughts,  in  our  subjective  design 
only;  but  not  yet  in  the  sphere  of  reality.  That  which  exists 
for  itself  only,  is  a  possibility,  a  potentiality;  but  has  not  yet 
emerged  into  Existence.  A  second  element  must  be  introduced 
in  order  to  produce  actuality — viz.,  actuation,  realization;  and 
whose  motive  power  is  the  Will — the  activity  of  man  in  the 
widest  sense.  It  is  only  by  this  activity  that  that  Idea  as  well 
as  abstract  characteristics  generally,  are  realized,  actualized; 
for  of  themselves  they  are  powerless.  The  motive  power  that 
puts  them  in  operation,  and  gives  them  determinate  existence, 
is  the  need*,  instinct,  inclination,  and  passion  of  man.  That 
some  conception  of  mine  should  be  developed  into  act  and 
existence,  is  my  earnest  desire :  I  wish  to  assert  my  personality 
ji  connection  with  it:  I  wish  to  be  satisfied  by  its  execution. 
If  I  am  to  exert  myself  for  any  object,  it  must  in  some  way 
or  other  be  my  object.  In  the  accomplishment  of  such  or  such 
designs  I  must  at  the  same  time  find  my  satisfaction ;  although 
the  purpose  for  which  I  exert  myself  includes  a  complication 
of  results,  many  of  which  have  no  interest  for  me.  This  is  the 
absolute  right  of  personal  existence — to  find  itself  satisfied  in 
its  activity  and  labor.  If  men  are  to  interest  themselves  for 
anything,  they  must  (so  to  speak)  have  part  of  their  existence 
involved  in  it ;  find  their  individuality  gratified  by  its  attain- 
ment. Here  a  mistake  must  be  avoided.  We  intend  blame,  and 
justly  impute  it  as  a  fault,  when  we  say  of  an  individual,  that 
he  is  "  interested  "  (in  taking  part  in  such  or  such  transactions) . 
that  is,  seeks  only  his  private  advantage.  In  reprehending 
this  we  find  fault  with  him  for  furthering  his  personal  aims 
without  any  regard  to  a  more  comprehensive  design ;  of  which 
he  takes  advantage  to  promote  his  own  interest,  or  which  he 
even  sacrifices  with  this  view.  But  he  who  is  active  in  pro- 
moting an  object   is  not  simply  "  interested,"  but  interested  in 


INTRODUCTION  23 

that  object  itself.  Language  faithfully  expresses  this  distinc- 
tion.— Nothing  therefore  happens,  nothing  is  accomplished, 
unless  the  individuals  concerned,  seek  their  own  satisfaction 
in  the  issue.  They  are  particular  units  of  society;  i.e.,  they 
have  special  needs,  instincts,  and  interests  generally,  peculiar 
to  themselves.  Among  these  needs  are  not  only  such  as  we 
usually  call  necessities — the  stimuli  of  individual  desire  and 
volition — but  also  those  connected  with  individual  views  and 
convictions;  or — to  use  a  term  expressing  less  decision — lean- 
ings of  opinion;  supposing  the  impulses  of  reflection,  under- 
standing, and  reason,  to  have  been  awakened.  In  these  cases 
people  demand,  if  they  are  to  exert  themselves  in  any  direction, 
that  the  object  should  commend  itself  to  them;  that  in  point 
of  opinion — whether  as  to  its  goodness,  justice,  advantage, 
profit — they  should  be  able  to  "enter  into  it"  (dabei  seyn). 
This  is  a  consideration  of  especial  importance  in  our  age,  when 
people  are  less  than  formerly  influenced  by  reliance  on  others, 
and  by  authority;  when,  on  the  contrary,  they  devote  their 
activities  to  a  cause  on  the  ground  of  their  own  understanding, 
their  independent  conviction  and  opinion. 

We  assert  then  that  nothing  has  been  accomplished  without 
interest  on  the  part  of  the  actors ;  and — if  interest  be  called 
passion,  inasmuch  as  the  whole  individuality,  to  the  neglect 
of  all  other  actual  or  possible  interests  and  claims,  is  devoted 
to  an  object  with  every  fibre  of  volition,  concentrating  all  its 
desires  and  powers  upon  it — we  may  affirm  absolutely  that 
nothing  great  in  the  World  has  been  accomplished  without 
passion.  Two  elements,  therefore,  enter  into  the  object  of  our 
investigation;  the  first  the  Idea,  the  second  the  complex  of 
human  passions;  the  one  the  warp,  the  other  the  woof  of  the 
vast  arras-web  of  Universal  History.  The  concrete  mean  and 
union  of  the  two  is  Liberty,  under  the  conditions  of  morality 
m  a  State.  We  have  spoken  of  the  Idea  of  Freedom  as  the 
nature  of  Spirit,  and  the  absolute  goal  of  History.  Passion 
is  regarded  as  a  thing  of  sinister  aspect,  as  more  or  less  im- 
moral. Man  is  required  to  have  no  passions.  Passion,  it  is 
true,  is  not  quite  the  suitable  word  for  what  I  wish  to  express. 
I  mean  here  nothing  more  than  the  human  activity  as  resulting 
from  private  interests — special,  or  if  you  will,  self-seeking  de- 
signs— with  this  qualification,  that  the  whole  energy  of  will 
and  character  is  devoted  to  their  attainment;   that  other  in- 


24  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

terests  (which  would  in  themselves  constitute  attractive  aims) 
or  rather  all  things  else,  are  sacrificed  to  them.  The  object  in 
question  is  so  bound  up  with  the  man's  will,  that  it  entirely 
and  alone  determines  the  "  hue  of  resolution,"  and  is  insepa- 
rable from  it.  It  has  become  the  very  essence  of  his  volition. 
For  a  person  is  a  specific  existence ;  not  man  in  general  (a  term 
to  which  no  real  existence  corresponds)  but  a  particular  human 
being.  The  term  "  character  "  likewise  expresses  this  idiosyn- 
crasy of  Will  and  Intelligence.  But  Character  comprehends 
all  peculiarities  whatever ;  the  way  in  which  a  person  conducts 
himself  in  private  relations,  etc.,  and  is  not  limited  to  his 
idiosyncrasy  in  its  practical  and  active  phase.  I  shall,  there- 
fore, use  the  term  "  passions " ;  understanding  thereby  the 
particular  bent  of  character,  as  far  as  the  peculiarities  of  voli- 
tion are  not  limited  to  private  interest,  but  supply  the  impelling 
and  actuating  force  for  accomplishing  deeds  shared  in  by  the 
community  at  large.  Passion  is  in  the  first  instance  the  sub- 
jective, and  therefore  the  formal  side  of  energy,  will,  and  ac- 
tivity— leaving  the  object  or  aim  still  undetermined.  And  there 
is  a  similar  relation  of  formality  to  reality  in  merely  individual 
conviction,  individual  views,  individual  conscience.  It  is  always 
a  question  of  essential  importance,  what  is  the  purport  of  my 
conviction,  what  the  object  of  my  passion,  in  deciding  whether 
the  one  or  the  other  is  of  a  true  and  substantial  nature.  Con- 
versely, if  it  is  so,  it  will  inevitably  attain  actual  existence — 
be  realized. 

From  this  comment  on  the  second  essential  element  in  the 
historical  embodiment  of  an  aim,  we  infer — glancing  at  the 
institution  of  the  State  in  passing — that  a  State  is  then  well 
constituted  and  internally  powerful,  when  the  private  interest 
of  its  citizens  is  one  with  the  common  interest  of  the  State; 
when  the  one  finds  its  gratification  and  realization  in  the  other 
— a  proposition  in  itself  very  important.  But  in  a  State  many 
institutions  must  be  adopted,  much  political  machinery  invented, 
accompanied  by  appropriate  political  arrangements — necessi- 
tating long  struggles  of  the  understanding  before  what  is  really 
appropriate  can  be  discovered — involving,  moreover,  conten- 
tions with  private  interest  and  passions,  and  a  tedious  discipline 
of  these  latter,  in  order  to  bring  about  the  desired  harmony. 
The  epoch  when  a  State  attains  this  harmonious  conditon, 
marks  the  period  of  its  bloom,  its  virtue,  its  vigor,  and  its  pros- 


INTRODUCTION  25 

perity.  But  the  history  of  mankind  does  not  begin  with  a  con- 
scious aim  of  any  kind,  as  it  is  the  case  with  the  particular  circles 
into  which  men  form  themselves  of  set  purpose.  The  mere 
social  instinct  implies  a  conscious  purpose  of  security  for  life 
and  property;  and  when  society  has  been  constituted,  this 
purpose  becomes  more  comprehensive.  The  History  of  the 
World  begins  with  its  general  aim — the  realization  of  the  Idea 
of  Spirit — only  in  an  implicit  form  (an  sich)  that  is,  as  Nature; 
a  hidden,  most  profoundly  hidden,  unconscious  instinct;  and 
the  whole  process  of  History  (as  already  observed),  is  directed 
to  rendering  this  unconscious  impulse  a  conscious  one.  Thus 
appearing  in  the  form  of  merely  natural  existence,  natural  will 
— that  which  has  been  called  the  subjective  side — physical 
craving,  instinct,  passion,  private  interest,  as  also  opinion  and 
subjective  conception — spontaneously  present  themselves  at  the 
very  commencement.  This  vast  congeries  of  volitions,  interests 
and  activities,  constitute  the  instruments  and  means  of  the 
World- Spirit  for  attaining  its  object;  bringing  it  to  conscious- 
ness, and  realizing  it.  And  this  aim  is  none  other  than  finding 
itself — coming  to  itself — and  contemplating  itself  in  concrete 
actuality.  But  that  those  manifestations  of  vitality  on  the  part 
of  individuals  and  peoples,  in  which  they  seek  and  satisfy  their 
own  purposes,  are,  at  the  same  time,  the  means  and  instru- 
ments of  a  higher  and  broader  purpose  of  which  they  know 
nothing — which  they  realize  unconsciously — might  be  made 
a  matter  of  question ;  rather  has  been  questioned,  and  in  every 
variety  of  form  negatived,  decried  and  ^contemned  as  mere 
dreaming  and  "  Philosophy."  But  on  this  point  I  announced 
my  view  at  the  very  outset,  and  asserted  our  hypothesis — which, 
however,  will  appear  in  the  sequel,  in  the  form  of  a  legitimate 
inference — and  our  belief  that  Reason  governs  the  world,  and 
has  consequently  governed  its  history.  In  relation  to  this  in- 
dependently universal  and  substantial  existence — all  else  is  sub- 
ordinate, subservient  to  it,  and  the  means  for  its  development. 
— The  Union  of  Universal  Abstract  Existence  generally  with 
the  Individual — the  Subjective — that  this  alone  is  Truth,  be- 
longs to  the  department  of  speculation,  and  is  treated  in  this 
general  form  in  Logic. — But  in  the  process  of  the  World's 
History  itself — as  still  incomplete — the  abstract  final  aim  of 
history  is  not  yet  made  the  distinct  object  of  desire  and  interest. 
While  these  limited  sentiments  are  still  unconscious  of  the  pur- 


26  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

pose  they  are  fulfilling,  the  universal  principle  is  implicit  in 
them,  and  is  realizing  itself  through  them.  The  question  also 
assumes  the  form  of  the  union  of  Freedom  and  Necessity;  the 
latent  abstract  process  of  Spirit  being  regarded  as  Necessity, 
while  that  which  exhibits  itself  in  the  conscious  will  of  men,  as 
their  interest,  belongs  to  the  domain  of  Freedom.  As  the  meta- 
physical connection  {i.e.,  the  connection  in  the  Idea)  of  these 
forms  of  thought,  belongs  to  Logic,  it  would  be  out  of  place 
to  analyze  it  here.  The  chief  and  cardinal  points  only  shall  be 
mentioned. 

Philosophy  shows  that  the  Idea  advances  to  an  infinite  an- 
tithesis ;  that,  viz.,  between  the  Idea  in  its  free,  universal  form 
— in  which  it  exists  for  itself — and  the  contrasted  form  of  ab- 
stract introversion,  reflection  on  itself,  which  is  formal  exist- 
ence-for-self,  personality,  formal  freedom,  such  as  belongs  to 
Spirit  only.  The  universal  Idea  exists  thus  as  the  substantial 
totality  of  things  on  the  one  side,  and  as  the  abstract  essence 
of  free  volition  on  the  other  side.  This  reflection  of  the  mind 
on  itself  is  individual  self-consciousness — the  polar  opposite 
of  the  Idea  in  its  general  form,  and  therefore  existing  in  abso- 
lute Limitation.  This  polar  opposite  is  consequently  limitation, 
particularization,  for  the  universal  absolute  being;  it  is  the 
side  of  its  definite  existence;  the  sphere  of  its  formal  reality, 
the  sphere  of  the  reverencj  oaid  to  God. — To  comprehend  the 
absolute  connection  of  this  antithesis,  is  the  profound  task  of 
metaphysics.  This  Limitation  originates  all  forms  of  particu- 
larity of  whatever  kind.  The  formal  volition  (of  which  we 
have  spoken)  wills  itself ;  desires  to  make  its  own  personality 
valid  in  all  that  it  purposes  and  does :  even  the  pious  individual 
wishes  to  be  saved  and  happy.  This  pole  of  the  antithesis,  ex- 
isting for  itself,  is — in  contrast  with  the  Absolute  Universal 
Being — a  special  separate  existence,  taking  cognizance  of  spe- 
cialty only,  and  willing  that  alone.  In  short  it  plays  its  part  in 
the  region  of  mere  phenomena.  This  is  the  sphere  of  particular 
purposes,  in  effecting  which  individuals  exert  themselves  on 
behalf  of  their  individuality — give  it  full  play  and  objective 
realization.  This  is  also  the  sphere  of  happiness  and  its  oppo- 
site. He  is  happy  who  finds  his  condition  suited  to  his  special 
character,  will,  and  fancy,  and  so  enjoys  himself  in  that  condi- 
tion. The  History  of  the  World  is  not  the  theatre  of  happiness. 
Periods  of  happiness  are  blank  pages  in  it,  for  they  are  periods 


INTRODUCTION  27 

of  harmony — periods  when  the  antithesis  is  in  abeyance.  Re- 
flection on  self — the  Freedom  above  described — is  abstractly 
defined  as  the  formal  element  of  the  activity  of  the  absolute 
Idea.  The  realizing  activity  of  which  we  have  spoken  is  the 
middle  term  of  the  Syllogism,  one  of  whose  extremes  is  the 
Universal  essence,  the  Idea,  which  reposes  in  the  penetralia 
of  Spirit ;  and  the  other,  the  complex  of  external  things — 
objective  matter.  That  activity  is  the  medium  by  which  the 
universal  latent  principle  is  translated  into  the  domain  of  ob- 
jectivity. 

I  will  endeavor  to  make  what  has  been  said  more  vivid  and 
clear  by  examples. 

The  building  of  a  house  is,  in  the  first  instance,  a  subjective 
aim  and  design.  On  the  other  hand  we  have,  as  means,  the 
several  substances  required  for  the  work — Iron,  Wood,  Stones. 
The  elements  are  made  use  of  in  working  up  this  material: 
fire  to  melt  the  iron,  wind  to  blow  the  fire,  water  to  set  wheels 
in  motion,  in  order  to  cut  the  wood,  etc.  The  result  is,  that  the 
wind,  which  has  helped  to  build  the  house,  is  shut  out  by  the 
house;  so  also  are  the  violence  of  rains  and  floods,  and  the 
destructive  powers  of  fire,  so  far  as  the  house  is  made  fire- 
proof. The  stones  and  beams  obey  the  law  of  gravity — press 
downward — and  so  high  walls  are  carried  up.  Thus  the  ele- 
ments are  made  use  of  in  accordance  with  their  nature,  and  yet 
to  co-operate  for  a  product,  by  which  their  operation  is  limited. 
Thus  the  passions  of  men  are  gratified ;  they  develop  them- 
selves and  their  aims  in  accordance  with  their  natural  tenden- 
cies, and  build  up  the  edifice  of  human  society;  thus  fortifying 
a  position  for  Right  and  Order  against  themselves. 

The  connection  of  events  above  indicated,  involves  also  the 
fact,  that  in  history  an  additional  result  is  commonly  produced 
by  human  actions  beyond  that  which  they  aim  at  and  obtain — 
that  which  they  immediately  recognize  and  desire.  They  grat- 
ify their  own  interest ;  but  something  further  is  thereby  ac- 
complished, latent  in  the  actions  in  question,  though  not  present 
to  their  consciousness,  and  not  included  in  their  design.  An 
analogous  example  is  offered  in  the  case  of  a  man  who,  from 
a  feeling  of  revenge — perhaps  not  an  unjust  one,  but  produced 
by  injury  on  the  other's  part — burns  that  other  man's  house.  A 
connection  is  immediately  established  between  the  deed  itself 
and  a  train  of  circumstances  not  directly  included  in  it,  taken 


a8  PHILOSOPHY  OF    HISTORY 

abstractedly.  In  itself  it  consisted  in  merely  presenting  a  small 
flame  to  a  small  portion  of  a  beam.  Events  not  involved  in  that 
simple  act  follow  of  themselves.  The  part  of  the  beam  which 
was  set  fire  to  is  connected  with  its  remote  portions ;  the  beam 
itself  is  united  with  the  woodwork  of  the  house  generally,  and 
this  with  other  houses;  so  that  a  wide  conflagration  ensues, 
which  destroys  the  goods  and  chattels  of  many  other  persons 
besides  his  against  whom  the  act  of  revenge  was  first  directed ; 
perhaps  even  costs  not  a  few  men  their  lives.  This  lay  neither 
in  the  deed  abstractedly,  nor  in  the  design  of  the  man  who  com- 
mitted it.  But  the  action  has  a  further  general  bearing.  In 
the  design  of  the  doer  it  was  only  revenge  executed  against 
an  individual  in  the  destruction  of  his  property,  but  it  is  more- 
over a  crime,  and  that  involves  punishment  also.  This  may 
not  have  been  present  to  the  mind  of  the  perpetrator,  still  less 
in  his  intention;  but  his  deed  itself,  the  general  principles  it 
calls  into  play,  its  substantial  content  entails  it.  By  this  ex- 
ample I  wish  only  to  impress  on  you  the  consideration,  that  in 
a  simple  act,  something  further  may  be  implicated  than  lies  in 
the  intention  and  consciousness  of  the  agent.  The  example 
before  us  involves,  however,  this  additional  consideration,  that 
the  substance  of  the  act,  consequently  we  may  say  the  act  itself, 
recoils  upon  the  perpetrator — reacts  upon  him  with  destructive 
tendency.  This  union  of  the  two  extremes — the  embodiment 
of  a  general  idea  in  the  form  of  direct  reality,  and  the  elevation 
of  a  speciality  into  connection  with  universal  truth — is  brought 
to  pass,  at  first  sight,  under  the  conditions  of  an  utter  diversity 
of  nature  between  the  two,  and  an  indifference  of  the  one  ex- 
treme towards  the  other.  The  aims  which  the  agents  set  before 
them  are  limited  and  special ;  but  it  must  be  remarked  that  the 
agents  themselves  are  intelligent  thinking  beings.  The  purport 
of  their  desires  is  interwoven  with  general,  essential  considera- 
tions of  justice,  good,  duty,  etc. ;  for  mere  desire — volition  in 
its  rough  and  savage  forms — falls  not  within  the  scene  and 
sphere  of  Universal  History.  Those  general  considerations, 
which  form  at  the  same  time  a  norm  for  directing  aims  and 
actions,  have  a  determinate  purport;  for  such  an  abstraction 
as  "  good  for  its  own  sake,"  has  no  place  in  living  reality.  If 
men  are  to  act,  they  must  not  only  intend  the  Good,  but  must 
have  decided  for  themselves  whether  this  or  that  particular 
thing  is  a  Good.    What  special  course  of  action,  however,  is 


INTRODUCTION 


29 


good  or  not,  is  determined,  as  regards  the  ordinary  contingen- 
cies of  private  life,  by  the  laws  and  customs  of  a  State;  and 
here  no  great  difficulty  is  presented.  Each  individual  has  his 
position;  he  knows  on  the  whole  what  a  just,  honorable  course 
of  conduct  is.  As  to  ordinary,  private  relations,  the  assertion 
that  it  is  difficult  to  choose  the  right  and  good — the  regarding 
it  as  the  mark  of  an  exalted  morality  to  find  difficulties  and 
raise  scruples  on  that  score — may  be  set  down  to  an  evil  or 
perverse  will,  which  seeks  to  evade  duties  not  in  themselves 
of  a  perplexing  nature;  or,  at  any  rate,  to  an  idly  reflective 
habit  of  mind — where  a  feeble  will  affords  no  sufficient  exercise 
to  the  faculties — leaving  them  therefore  to  find  occupation  with- 
in themselves,  and  to  expend  themselves  on  moral  self-adu- 
lation. 

It  is  quite  otherwise  with  the  comprehensive  relations  that 
History  has  to  do  with.  In  this  sphere  are  presented  those 
momentous  collisions  between  existing,  acknowledged  duties, 
laws,  and  rights,  and  those  contingencies  which  are  adverse 
to  this  fixed  system ;  which  assail  and  even  destroy  its  founda- 
tions and  existence ;  whose  tenor  may  nevertheless  seem  good 
— on  the  large  scale  advantageous — yes,  even  indispensable  and 
necessary.  These  contingencies  realize  themselves  in  History: 
they  involve  a  general  principle  of  a  different  order  from  that 
on  which  depends  the  permanence  of  a  people  or  a  State.  This 
principle  is  an  essential  phase  in  the  development  of  the  creat- 
ing Idea,  of  Truth  striving  and  urging  towards  (consciousness 
of)  itself.  Historical  men — World-Historical  Individuals — are 
those  in  whose  aims  such  a  general  principle  lies. 

Caesar,  in  danger  of  losing  a  position,  not  perhaps  at  that 
time  of  superiority,  yet  at  least  of  equality  with  the  others  who 
were  at  the  head  of  the  State,  and  of  succumbing  to  those  who 
were  just  on  the  point  of  becoming  his  enemies — belongs  es- 
sentially to  this  category.  These  enemies — who  were  at  the 
same  time  pursuing  their  personal  aims — had  the  form  of  the 
constitution,  and  the  power  conferred  by  an  appearance  of  jus- 
tice, on  their  side.  Caesar  was  contending  for  the  maintenance 
of  his  position,  honor,  and  safety ;  and,  since  the  power  of  his 
opponents  included  the  sovereignty  over  the  provinces  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  his  victory  secured  for  him  the  conquest  ofr 
that  entire  Empire ;  and  he  thus  became — though  leaving  the 
form  of  the  constitution — the  Autocrat  of  the  State.     That 


3o  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

which  secured  for  him  the  execution  of  a  design,  which  in  the 
first  instance  was  of  negative  import — the  Autocracy  of  Rome 
— was,  however,  at  the  same  time  an  independently  necessary 
feature  in  the  history  of  Rome  and  of  the  world.  It  was  not, 
then,  his  private  gain  merely,  but  an  unconscious  impulse  that 
occasioned  the  accomplishment  of  that  for  which  the  time  was 
ripe.  Such  are  all  great  historical  men — whose  own  partic- 
ular aims  involve  those  large  issues  which  are  the  will  of  the 
World-Spirit.  They  may  be  called  Heroes,  inasmuch  as  they 
have  derived  their  purposes  and  their  vocation,  not  from  the 
calm,  regular  course  of  things,  sanctioned  by  the  existing 
order;  but  from  a  concealed  fount — one  which  has  not  at- 
tained to  phenomenal,  present  existence — from  that  inner 
Spirit,  still  hidden  beneath  the  surface,  which,  impinging  on 
the  outer  world  as  on  a  shell,  bursts  it  in  pieces,  because  it  is 
another  kernel  than  that  which  belonged  to  the  shell  in  ques- 
tion. They  are  men,  therefore,  who  appear  to  draw  the  im- 
pulse of  their  life  from  themselves ;  and  whose  deeds  have 
produced  a  condition  of  things  and  a  complex  of  historical 
relations  which  appear  to  be  only  their  interest,  and  their  work. 
Such  individuals  had  no  consciousness  of  the  general  Idea 
they  were  unfolding,  while  prosecuting  those  aims  of  theirs ; 
on  the  contrary,  they  were  practical,  political  men.  But  at  the 
same  time  they  were  thinking  men,  who  had  an  insight  into 
the  requirements  of  the  time — what  was  ripe  for  development. 
This  was  the  very  Truth  for  their  age,  for  their  world ;  the 
species  next  in  order,  so  to  speak,  and  which  was  already 
formed  in  the  womb  of  time.  It  was  theirs  to  know  this  nas- 
cent principle ;  the  necessary,  directly  sequent  step  in  progress, 
which  their  world  was  to  take ;  to  make  this  their  aim,  and  to 
expend  their  energy  in  promoting  it.  World-historical  men — 
the  Heroes  of  an  epoch — must,  therefore,  be  recognized  as  its 
clear-sighted  ones ;  their  deeds,  their  words  are  the  best  of  that 
time.  Great  men  have  formed  purposes  to  satisfy  themselves, 
not  others.  Whatever  prudent  designs  and  counsels  they 
might  have  learned  from  others,  would  be  the  more  limited  and 
inconsistent  features  in  their  career ;  for  it  was  they  who  best 
understood  affairs;  from  whom  others  learned,  and  approved, 
or  at  least  acquiesced  in — their  policy.  For  that  Spirit  which 
had  taken  this  fresh  step  in  history  is  the  inmost  soul  of  all  in- 
dividuals ;   but  in  a  state  of  unconsciousness  which  the  great 


INTRODUCTION 


31 


men  in  question  aroused.  Their  fellows,  therefore,  follow  these 
soul-leaders ;  for  they  feel  the  irresistible  power  of  their  own 
inner  Spirit  thus  embodied.  If  we  go  on  to  cast  a  look  at  the 
fate  of  these  World-Historical  persons,  whose  vocation  it  was 
to  be  the  agents  of  the  World-Spirit — we  shall  find  it  to  have 
been  no  happy  one.  They  attained  no  calm  enjoyment ;  their 
whole  life  was  labor  and  trouble;  their  whole  nature  was 
nought  else  but  their  master-passion.  When  their  object  is 
attained  they  fall  off  like  empty  hulls  from  the  kernel.  They 
die  early,  like  Alexander;  they  are  murdered,  like  Csesar; 
transported  to  St.  Helena,  like  Napoleon.  This  fearful  con- 
solation— that  historical  men  have  not  enjoyed  what  is  called 
happiness,  and  of  which  only  private  life  (and  this  may  be 
passed  under  very  various  external  circumstances)  is  capable 
— this  consolation  those  may  draw  from  history,  who  stand 
in  need  of  it ;  and  it  is  craved  by  Envy — vexed  at  what  is  great 
and  transcendant — striving,  therefore,  to  depreciate  it,  and  to 
find  some  flaw  in  it.  Thus  in  modern  times  it  has  been  demon- 
strated ad  nauseam  that  princes  are  generally  unhappy  on  their 
thrones ;  in  consideration  of  which  the  possession  of  a  throne 
is  tolerated,  and  men  acquiesce  in  the  fact  that  not  themselves 
but  the  personages  in  question  are  its  occupants.  The  Free 
Man,  we  may  observe,  is  not  envious,  but  gladly  recognizes 
what  is  great  and  exalted,  and  rejoices  that  it  exists. 

It  is  in  the  light  of  those  common  elements  which  constitute 
the  interest  and  therefore  the  passions  of  individuals,  that  these 
historical  men  are  to  be  regarded.  They  are  great  men,  be- 
cause they  willed  and  accomplished  something  great ;  not  a 
mere  fancy,  a  mere  intention,  but  that  which  met  the  case  and 
fell  in  with  the  needs  of  the  age.  This  mode  of  considering 
them  also  excludes  the  so-called  "  psychological  "  view,  which 
— serving  the  purpose  of  envy  most  effectually — contrives  so 
to  refer  all  actions  to  the  heart — to  bring  them  under  such 
a  subjective  aspect — as  that  their  authors  appear  to  have  done 
everything  under  the  impulse  of  some  passion,  mean  or  grand 
— some  morbid  craving — and  on  account  of  these  passions  and 
cravings  to  have  been  not  moral  men.  Alexander  of  Macedon 
partly  subdued  Greece,  and  then  Asia ;  therefore  he  was  pos- 
sessed by  a  morbid  craving  for  conquest.  He  is  alleged  to  have 
acted  from  a  craving  for  fame,  for  conquest ;  and  the  proof  that 
these  were  the  impelling  motives  is  that  he  did  that  which  re- 


32 


PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 


suited  in  fame.  What  pedagogue  has  not  demonstrated  of  Al- 
exander the  Great — of  Julius  Caesar — that  they  were  in- 
stigated by  such  passions,  and  were  consequently  immoral 
men  ? — whence  the  conclusion  immediately  follows  that  he,  the 
pedagogue,  is  a  better  man  than  they,  because  he  has  not  such 
passions ;  a  proof  of  which  lies  in  the  fact  that  he  does  not 
conquer  Asia — vanquish  Darius  and  Porus — but  while  he  en- 
joys life  himself,  lets  others  enjoy  it  too.  These  psychologists 
are  particularly  fond  of  contemplating  those  peculiarities  of 
great  historical  figures  which  appertain  to  them  as  private 
persons.  Man  must  eat  and  drink ;  he  sustains  relations  to 
friends  and  acquaintances ;  he  has  passing  impulses  and  ebulli- 
tions of  temper.  "  No  man  is  a  hero  to  his  valet-de-chambre  " 
is  a  well-known  proverb ;  I  have  added — and  Goethe  repeated 
it  ten  years  later — "  but  not  because  the  former  is  no  hero,  but 
because  the  latter  is  a  valet."  He  takes  off  the  hero's  boots, 
assists  him  to  bed,  knows  that  he  prefers  champagne,  etc.  His- 
torical personages  waited  upon  in  historical  literature  by  such 
psychological  valets,  come  poorly  off ;  they  are  brought  down 
by  these  their  attendants  to  a  level  with — or  rather  a  few  de- 
grees below  the  level  of — the  morality  of  such  exquisite  dis- 
cerners  of  spirits.  The  Thersites  of  Homer  who  abuses  the 
kings  is  a  standing  figure  for  all  times.  Blows — that  is  beating 
with  a  solid  cudgel — he  does  not  get  in  every  age,  as  in  the 
Homeric  one ;  but  his  envy,  his  egotism,  is  the  thorn  which 
he  has  to  carry  in  his  flesh  ;  and  the  undying  worm  that  gnaws 
him  is  the  tormenting  consideration  that  his  excellent  views 
and  vituperations  remain  absolutely  without  result  in  the 
world.  But  our  satisfaction  at  the  fate  of  Thersitism  also  may 
have  its  sinister  side. 

A  World-historical  individual  is  not  so  unwise  as  to  indu.ge 
a  variety  of  wishes  to  divide  his  regards.  He  is  devoted  to  the 
One  Aim,  regardless  of  all  else.  It  is  even  possible  that  such 
men  may  treat  other  great,  even  sacred  interests,  inconsider- 
ately ;  conduct  which  is  indeed  obnoxious  to  moral  reprehen- 
sion. But  so  mighty  a  form  must  trample  down  many  an  inno- 
cent flower — crush  to  pieces  many  an  object  in  its  path. 

The  special  interest  of  passion  is  thus  inseparable  from  the 
active  development  of  a  general  principle:  for  it  is  from  the 
special  and  determinate  and  from  its  negation,  that  the  Univer- 
sal results.    Particularity  contends  with  its  like,  and  some  loss 


INTRODUCTION 


S3 


is  involved  in  the  issue.  It  is  not  the  general  idea  that  is  im- 
plicated in  opposition  and  combat,  and  that  is  exposed  to  dan- 
ger. It  remains  in  the  background,  untouched  and  uninjured. 
This  may  be  called  the  cunning  of  reason — that  it  sets  the  pas- 
sions to  work  for  itself,  while  that  which  develops  its  existence 
through  such  impulsion  pays  the  penalty,  and  suffers  loss.  For 
it  is  phenomenal  being  that  is  so  treated,  and  of  this  part  is  of 
no  value,  part  is  positive  and  real.  The  particular  is  for  the 
most  part  of  too  trifling  value  as  compared  with  the  general : 
individuals  are  sacrificed  and  abandoned.  The  Idea  pays  the 
penalty  of  determinate  existence  and  of  corruptibility,  not  from 
itself,  but  from  the  passions  of  individuals. 

But  though  we  might  tolerate  the  idea  that  individuals,  their 
desires  and  the  gratification  of  them,  are  thus  sacrificed,  and 
their  happiness  given  up  to  the  empire  of  chance,  to  which  it 
belongs;  and  that  as  a  general  rule,  individuals  come  under 
the  category  of  means  to  an  ulterior  end — there  is  one  aspect 
of  human  individuality  which  we  should  hesitate  to  regard  in 
that  subordinate  light,  even  in  relation  to  the  highest;  since 
it  is  absolutely  no  subordinate  element,  but  exists  in  those  in- 
dividuals as  inherently  eternal  and  divine.  I  mean  morality, 
ethics,  religion.  Even  when  speaking  of  the  realization  of  the 
great  ideal  aim  by  means  of  individuals,  the  subjective  element 
in  them — their  interest  and  that  of  their  cravings  and  impulses, 
their  views  and  judgments,  though  exhibited  as  the  merely 
formal  side  of  their  existence — -was  spoken  of  as  having  an 
infinite  right  to  be  consulted.  The  first  idea  that  presents  itself 
in  speaking  of  means  is  that  of  something  external  to  the  ob- 
ject, and  having  no  share  in  the  object  itself.  But  merely 
natural  things — even  the  commonest  lifeless  objects — used  as 
means,  must  be  of  such  a  kind  as  adapts  them  to  their  purpose  ; 
they  must  possess  something  in  common  with  it.  Human  be- 
ings least  of  all  sustain  the  bare  external  relation  of  mere 
means  to  the  great  ideal  aim.  Not  only  do  they  in  the  very 
act  of  realizing  it,  make  it  the  occasion  of  satisfying  personal 
desires,  whose  purport  is  diverse  from  that  aim — but  they  share 
in  that  ideal  aim  itself ;  and  are  for  that  very  reason  objects  of 
their  own  existence ;  not  formally  merely,  as  the  world  of  living 
beings  generally  is — whose  individual  life  is  essentially  sub- 
ordinate to  that  of  man,  and  is  properly  used  up  as  an  instru- 
ment.   Men,  on  the  contrary,  are  objects  of  existence  to  them- 


34  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

selves,  as  regards  the  intrinsic  import  of  the  aim  in  question. 
To  this  order  belongs  that  in  them  which  we  would  exclude 
from  the  category  of  mere  means — Morality,  Ethics,  Re- 
ligion. That  is  to  say,  man  is  an  object  of  existence  in  him- 
self only  in  virtue  of  the  Divine  that  is  in  him — that  which 
was  designated  at  the  outset  as  Reason;  which,  in  view  of  its 
activity  and  power  of  self-determination,  was  called  Freedom. 
And  we  affirm — without  entering  at  present  on  the  proof  of 
the  assertion — that  Religion,  Morality,  etc.,  have  their  founda- 
tion and  source  in  that  principle,  and  so  are  essentially  elevated 
above  all  alien  necessity  and  chance.  And  here  we  must  re- 
mark that  individuals,  to  the  extent  of  their  freedom,  are  re- 
sponsible for  the  depravation  and  enfeeblement  of  morals  and 
religion.  This  is  the  seal  of  the  absolute  and  sublime  destiny 
of  man — that  he  knows  what  is  good  and  what  is  evil ;  that 
his  Destiny  is  his  very  ability  to  will  either  good  or  evil — in 
one  word,  that  he  is  the  subject  of  moral  imputation,  imputa- 
tion not  only  of  evil,  but  of  good ;  and  not  only  concerning 
this  or  that  particular  matter,  and  all  that  happens  ab  extra, 
but  also  the  good  and  evil  attaching  to  his  individual  freedom. 
The  brute  alone  is  simply  innocent.  It  would,  however,  de- 
mand an  extensive  explanation — as  extensive  as  the  analysis 
of  moral  freedom  itself — to  preclude  or  obviate  all  the  misun- 
derstandings which  the  statement  that  what  is  called  innocence 
imports  the  entire  unconsciousness  of  evil — is  wont  to  occa- 
sion. 

In  contemplating  the  fate  which  virtue,  morality,  even  piety 
experience  in  history,  we  must  not  fall  into  the  Litany  of 
Lamentations,  that  the  good  and  pious  often — or  for  the  most 
part — fare  ill  in  the  world,  while  the  evil-disposed  and  wicked 
prosper.  The  term  prosperity  is  used  in  a  variety  of  meanings 
— riches,  outward  honor,  and  the  like.  But  in  speaking  of 
something  which  in  and  for  itself  constitutes  an  aim  of  ex- 
istence, that  so-called  well  or  ill-faring  of  these  or  those  isolated 
individuals  cannot  be  regarded  as  an  essential  element  in  the 
rational  order  of  the  universe.  With  more  justice  than  hap- 
piness— or  a  fortunate  environment  for  individuals — it  is  de- 
manded of  the  grand  aim  of  the  world's  existence,  that  it  should 
foster,  nay  involve  the  execution  and  ratification  of  good, 
moral,  righteous  purposes.  What  makes  men  morally  discon- 
tented (a  discontent,  by  the  bye,  on  which  they  somewhat  pride 


INTRODUCTION 


35 


themselves),  is  that  they  do  not  find  the  present  adapted  to 
the  realization  of  aims  which  they  hold  to  be  right  and  just 
(more  especially  in  modern  times,  ideals  of  political  consti- 
tutions) ;  they  contrast  unfavorably  things  as  they  are,  with 
their  idea  of  things  as  they  ought  to  be.  In  this  case  it  is  not 
private  interest  nor  passion  that  desires  gratification,  but  Rea- 
son, Justice,  Liberty ;  and  equipped  with  this  title,  the  demand 
in  question  assumes  a  lofty  bearing,  and  readily  adopts  a  posi- 
tion not  merely  of  discontent,  but  of  open  revolt  against  the 
actual  condition  of  the  world.  To  estimate  such  a  feeling  and 
such  views  aright,  the  demands  insisted  upon,  and  the  very 
dogmatic  opinions  asserted,  must  be  examined.  At  no  time 
so  much  as  in  our  own,  have  such  general  principles  and 
notions  been  advanced,  or  with  greater  assurance.  If  in  days 
gone  by,  history  seems  to  present  itself  as  a  struggle  of  pas- 
sions ;  in  our  time — though  displays  of  passion  are  not  want- 
ing— it  exhibits  partly  a  predominance  of  the  struggle  of  no- 
tions assuming  the  authority  of  principles ;  partly  that  of 
passions  and  interests  essentially  subjective,  but  under  the 
mask  of  such  higher  sanctions.  The  pretensions  thus  con- 
tended for  as  legitimate  in  the  name  of  that  which  has  been 
stated  as  the  ultimate  aim  of  Reason,  pass  accordingly,  for 
absolute  aims — to  the  same  extent  as  Religion,  Morals, 
Ethics.  Nothing,  as  before  remarked,  is  now  more  common 
than  the  complaint  that  the  ideals  which  imagination  sets  up 
are  not  realized — that  these  glorious  dreams  are  destroyed 
by  cold  actuality.  These  Ideals — which  in  the  voyage  of  life 
founder  on  the  rocks  of  hard  reality — may  be  in  the  first  in- 
stance only  subjective,  and  belong  to  the  idiosyncrasy  of  the 
individual,  imagining  himself  the  highest  and  wisest.  Such  do 
not  properly  belong  to  this  category.  For  the  fancies  which 
the  individual  in  his  isolation  indulges,  cannot  be  the  model 
for  universal  reality ;  just  as  universal  law  is  not  designed  for 
the  units  of  the  mass.  These  as  such  may,  in  fact,  find  their 
interests  decidedly  thrust  into  the  background.  But  by  the 
term  "  Ideal,"  we  also  understand  the  ideal  of  Reason,  of  the 
Good,  of  the  True.  Poets,  as  e.g.  Schiller,  have  painted  such 
ideals  touchingly  and  with  strong  emotion,  and  with  the  deeply 
melancholy  conviction  that  they  could  not  be  realized.  In 
affirming,  on  the  contrary,  that  the  Universal  Reason  does 
realize  itself,  we  have  indeed  nothing  to  do  with  the  individual 

Vol.  23  C— Classics 


36  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

empirically  regarded.  That  admits  of  degrees  of  better  and 
worse,  since  here  chance  and  speciality  have  received  au- 
thority from  the  Idea  to  exercise  their  monstrous  power. 
Much,  therefore,  in  particular  aspects  of  the  grand  phenom- 
enon might  be  found  fault  with.  This  subjective  fault-finding 
— which,  however,  only  keeps  in  view  the  individual  and  its 
deficiency,  without  taking  notice  of  Reason  pervading  the 
whole — is  easy ;  and  inasmuch  as  it  asserts  an  excellent  inten- 
tion with  regard  to  the  good  of  the  whole,  and  seems  to  result 
from  a  kindly  heart,  it  feels  authorized  to  give  itself  airs  and 
assume  great  consequence.  It  is  easier  to  discover  a  defi- 
ciency in  individuals,  in  states,  and  in  Providence,  than  to  see 
their  real  import  and  value.  For  in  this  merely  negative  fault- 
finding a  proud  position  is  taken — one  which  overlooks  the 
object,  without  having  entered  into  it — without  having  com- 
prehended its  positive  aspect.  Age  generally  makes  men  more 
tolerant ;  youth  is  always  discontented.  The  tolerance  of  age 
is  the  result  of  the  ripeness  of  a  judgment  which,  not  merely 
as  the  result  of  indifference,  is  satisfied  even  with  what  is  in- 
ferior; but,  more  deeply  taught  by  the  grave  experience  of 
life,  has  been  led  to  perceive  the  substantial,  solid  worth  of 
the  object  in  question.  The  insight  then  to  which — in  contra- 
distinction from  those  ideals — philosophy  is  to  lead  us,  is,  that 
the  real  world  is  as  it  ought  to  be — that  the  truly  good — the 
universal  divine  reason — is  not  a  mere  abstraction,  but  a  vital 
principle  capable  of  realizing  itself.  This  Good,  this  Reason,  in 
its  most  concrete  form,  is  God.  God  governs  the  world ;  the 
actual  /orking  of  his  government — the  carrying  out  of  his 
plan — is  the  History  of  the  World.  This  plan  philosophy 
strives  to  comprehend ;  for  only  that  which  has  been  developed 
as  the  result  of  it,  possesses  bona  Ude  reality.  That  which  does 
not  accord  with  it,  is  negative,  worthless  existence.  Before 
the  pure  light  of  this  divine  Idea — which  is  no  mere  Ideal — 
the  phantom  of  a  world  whose  events  are  an  incoherent  con- 
course of  fortuitous  circumstances,  utterly  vanishes.  Philos- 
ophy wishes  to  discover  the  substantial  purport,  the  real  side,  of 
the  divine  idea,  and  to  justify  the  so  much  despised  Reality  of 
things ;  for  Reason  is  the  comprehension  of  the  Divine  work. 
But  as  to  what  concerns  the  perversion,  corruption,  and  ruin 
of  religious,  ethical,  and  moral  purposes,  and  states  of  society 
generally,  it  must  be  affirmed  that  in  their  essence  these  are  in- 


INTRODUCTION  37 

finite  and  eternal ;  but  that  the  forms  they  assume  may  be  of  a 
limited  order,  and  consequently  belong  to  the  domain  of  mere 
nature,  and  be  subject  to  the  sway  of  chance.  They  are  there- 
fore perishable,  and  exposed  to  decay  and  corruption.  Religion 
and  morality — in  the  same  way  as  inherently  universal  essences 
- — have  the  peculiarity  of  being  present  in  the  individual  soul, 
in  the  full  extent  of  their  Idea,  and  therefore  truly  and  really ; 
although,  thev  may  not  manifest  themselves  in  it  in  extenso, 
and  are  not  applied  to  fully  developed  relations.  The  religion, 
the  morality  of  a  limited  sphere  of  life — that  of  a  shepherd  or 
a  peasant,  e.g. — in  its  intensive  concentration  and  limitation  to 
a  few  perfectly  simple  relations  of  life — has  infinite  worth ;  the 
same  worth  as  the  religion  and  morality  of  extensive  knowl- 
edge, and  of  an  existence  rich  in  the  compass  of  its  relations  and 
actions.  This  inner  focus — this  simple  region  of  the  claims  of 
subjective  freedom — the  home  of  volition,  resolution,  and  ac- 
tion— the  abstract  sphere  of  conscience — that  which  comprises 
the  responsibility  and  moral  value  of  the  individual,  remains 
untouched ;  and  is  quite  shut  out  from  the  noisy  din  of  the 
World's  History — including  not  merely  external  and  temporal 
changes,  but  also  those  entailed  by  the  absolute  necessity  in- 
separable from  the  realization  of  the  Idea  of  Freedom  itself. 
But  as  a  general  truth  this  must  be  regarded  as  settled,  that 
whatever  in  the  world  possesses  claims  as  noble  and  glorious, 
has  nevertheless  a  higher  existence  above  it.  The  claim  of  the 
World-Spirit  rises  above  all  special  claims. 

These  observations  may  suffice  in  reference  to  the  means 
which  the  World-Spirit  uses  for  realizing  its  Idea.  Stated  sim- 
ply and  abstractly,  this  mediation  involves  the  activity  of  per* 
sonal  existences  in  whom  Reason  is  present  as  their  absolute, 
substantial  being ;  but  a  basis,  in  the  first  instance,  still  obscure 
and  unknown  to  them.  But  the  subject  becomes  more  com- 
plicated and  difficult  when  we  regard  individuals  not  merely  in 
their  aspect  of  activity,  but  more  concretely,  in  conjunction 
with  a  particular  manifestation  of  that  activity  in  their  religion 
and  morality — forms  of  existence  which  are  intimately  con- 
nected with  Reason,  and  share  in  its  absolute  claims.  Here 
the  relation  of  mere  means  to  an  end  disappears,  and  the  chief 
bearings  of  this  seeming  difficulty  in  reference  to  the  absolute 
aim  of  Spirit  have  been  briefly  considered. 

(3)  The  third  point  to  be  analyzed  is,  therefore — what  is 


38  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

the  object  to  be  realized  by  these  means ;  i.e.  what  is  the  form  it 
assumes  in  the  realm  of  reality.  We  have  spoken  of  means; 
but  in  the  carrying  out  of  a  subjective,  limited  aim,  we  have 
also  to  take  into  consideration  the  element  of  a  material,  either 
already  present  or  which  has  to  be  procured.  Thus  the  question 
would  arise :  What  is  the  material  in  which  the  Ideal  of  Rea- 
son is  wrought  out  ?  The  primary  answer  would  be — Person- 
ality itself — human  desires — Subjectivity  generally.  In  human 
knowledge  and  volition,  as  its  material  element,  Reason  attains 
positive  existence.  We  have  considered  subjective  volition 
where  it  has  an  object  which  is  the  truth  and  essence  of  a  real- 
ity, viz.,  where  it  constitutes  a  great  world-historical  passion. 
As  a  subjective  will,  occupied  with  limited  passions,  it  is  depen- 
dent, and  can  gratify  its  desires  only  within  the  limits  of  this 
dependence.  But  the  subjective  will  has  also  a  substantial  life 
— a  reality — in  which  it  moves  in  the  region  of  essential  being, 
and  has  the  essential  itself  as  the  object  of  its  existence.  This 
essential  being  is  the  union  of  the  subjective  with  the  rational 
Will :  it  is  the  moral  Whole,  the  State,  which  is  that  form  of  re- 
ality in  which  the  individual  has  and  enjoys  his  freedom  ;  but  on 
the  condition  of  his  recognizing,  believing  in,  and  willing  that 
which  is  common  to  the  Whole.  And  this  must  not  be  under- 
stood as  if  the  subjective  will  of  the  social  unit  attained  its  grati- 
fication and  enjoyment  through  that  common  Will ;  as  if  this 
were  a  means  provided  for  its  benefit ;  as  if  the  individual,  in 
his  relations  to  other  individuals,  thus  limited  his  freedom,  in 
order  that  this  universal  limitation — the  mutual  constraint  of 
all — might  secure  a  small  space  of  liberty  for  each.  Rather,  we 
affirm,  are  Law,  Morality,  Government,  and  they  alone,  the 
positive  reality  and  completion  of  Freedom.  Freedom  of  a  low 
and  limited  order  is  mere  caprice ;  which  finds  its  exercise  in 
the  sphere  of  particular  and  limited  desires. 

Subjective  volition — Passion — is  that  which  sets  men  in  ac- 
tivity, that  which  effects  "  practical  "  realization.  The  Idea  is 
the  inner  spring  of  action ;  the  State  is  the  actually  existing, 
realized  moral  life.  For  it  is  the  Unity  of  the  universal,  essen- 
tial Will,  with  that  of  the  individual ;  and  this  is  "  Morality." 
The  Individual  living  in  this  unity  has  a  moral  life ;  possesses 
a  value  that  consists  in  this  substantiality  alone.  Sophocles  in 
his  Antigone,  says,  "  The  divine  commands  are  not  of  yester- 
day, nor  of  today ;  no,  they  have  an  infinite  existence,  and  no 


,     INTRODUCTION  39 

one  could  say  whence  they  came."  The  laws  of  morality  are 
not  accidental,  but  are  the  essentially  Rational.  It  is  the  very 
object  of  the  State  that  what  is  essential  in  the  practical  activity 
of  men,  and  in  their  dispositions,  should  be  duly  recognized ; 
that  it  should  have  a  manifest  existence,  and  maintain  its  posi- 
tion. It  is  the  absolute  interest  of  Reason  that  this  moral  Whole 
should  exist;  and  herein  lie  the  justification  and  merit  of 
heroes  who  have  founded  states — however  rude  these  may  have 
been.  In  the  history  of  the  World,  only  those  peoples  can  come 
under  our  notice  which  form  a  state.  For  it  must  be  understood 
that  this  latter  is  the  realization  of  Freedom,  i.e.  of  the  absolute 
final  aim,  and  that  it  exists  for  its  own  sake.  It  must  further  be 
understood  that  all  the  worth  which  the  human  being  possesses 
— all  spiritual  reality,  he  possesses  only  through  the  State.  For 
his  spiritual  reality  consists  in  this,  that  his  own  essence — Rea- 
son— is  objectively  present  to  him,  that  it  possesses  objective 
immediate  existence  for  him.  Thus  only  is  he  fully  conscious ; 
thus  only  is  he  a  partaker  of  morality — of  a  just  and  moral  social 
and  political  life.  For  Truth  is  the  Unity  of  the  universal  and 
subjective  Will ;  and  the  Universal  is  to  be  found  in  the  State, 
in  its  laws,  its  universal  and  rational  arrangements.  The  State 
is  the  Divine  Idea  as  it  exists  on  Earth.  We  have  in  it,  there- 
fore, the  object  of  History  in  a  more  definite  shape  than  before ; 
that  in  which  Freedom  obtains  objectivity,  and  lives  in  the  en- 
joyment of  this  objectivity.  For  Law  i§  the  objectivity  of 
Spirit ;  volition  in  its  true  form.  Only  that  will  which  obeys 
law,  is  free ;  for  it  obeys  itself — it  is  independent  and  so  free. 
When  the  State  or  our  country  constitutes  a  community  of  ex- 
istence ;  when  the  subjective  will  of  man  submits  to  laws — the 
contradiction  between  Liberty  and  Necessity  vanishes.  The 
Rational  has  necessary  existence,  as  being  the  reality  and  sub- 
stance of  things,  and  we  are  free  in  recognizing  it  as  law,  and 
following  it  as  the  substance  of  our  own  being.  The  objective 
and  the  subjective  will  are  then  reconciled,  and  present  one 
identical  homogeneous  whole.  For  the  morality  (Sittlichkeit) 
of  the  State  is  not  of  that  ethical  (moralische)  reflective  kind,  in 
which  one's  own  conviction  bears  sway ;  this  latter  is  rather  the 
peculiarity  of  the  modern  time,  while  the  true  antique  morality 
is  based  on  the  principle  of  abiding  by  one's  duty  [to  the  state 
at  large] .  An  Athenian  citizen  did  what  was  required  of  him, 
as  it  were  from  instinct:   but  if  I  reflect  on  the  object  of  my 


4o  PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 

activity,  I  must  have  the  consciousness  that  my  will  has  been 
called  into  exercise.  But  morality  is  Duty — substantial  Right 
— a  "  second  nature  "  as  it  has  been  justly  called ;  for  the  first 
nature  of  man  is  his  primary  merely  animal  existence. 

The  development  in  extenso  of  the  Idea  of  the  State  belongs  to 
the  Philosophy  of  Jurisprudence ;  but  it  must  be  observed  that 
in  the  theories  of  our  time  various  errors  are  current  respecting 
it,  which  pass  for  established  truths,  and  have  become  fixed 
prejudices.  We  will  mention  only  a  few  of  them,  giving  promi- 
nence to  such  as  have  a  reference  to  the  object  of  our  history. 

The  error  which  first  meets  us  is  the  direct  contradictory  of 
our  principle  that  the  state  presents  the  realization  of  Freedom ; 
the  opinion,  viz.,  that  man  is  free  by  nature,  but  that  in  society, 
in  the  State — to  which  nevertheless  he  is  irresistibly  impelled 
— he  must  limit  this  natural  freedom.  That  man  is  free  by 
Nature  is  quite  correct  in  one  sense ;  viz.,  that  he  is  so  accord- 
ing to  the  Idea  of  Humanity ;  but  we  imply  thereby  that  he  is 
such  only  in  virtue  of  his  destiny — that  he  has  an  undeveloped 
power  to  become  such ;  for  the  "  Nature  "  of  an  object  is  ex- 
actly synonymous  with  its  "  Idea."  But  the  view  in  question 
imports  more  than  this.  When  man  is  spoken  of  as  "  free  by 
Nature,"  the  mode  of  his  existence  as  well  as  his  destiny  is  im- 
plied. His  merely  natural  and  primary  condition  is  intended. 
In  this  sense  a  "  state  of  Nature  "  is  assumed  in  which  mankind 
at  large  are  in  the  possession  of  their  natural  rights  with  the 
unconstrained  exercise  and  enjoyment  of  their  freedom.  This 
assumption  is  not  indeed  raised  to  the  dignity  of  the  historical 
fact;  it  would  indeed  be  difficult,  were  the  attempt  seriously 
made,  to  p.oint  out  any  such  condition  as  actually  existing,  or 
as  having  ever  occurred.  Examples  of  a  savage  state  of  life 
can  be  pointed  out,  but  they  are  marked  by  brutal  passions  and 
deeds  of  violence ;  while,  however  rude  and  simple  their  con- 
ditions, they  involve  social  arrangements  which  (to  use  the 
common  phrase)  restrain  freedom.  That  assumption  is  one  of 
those  nebulous  images  which  theory  produces ;  an  idea  which 
it  cannot  avoid  originating,  but  which  it  fathers  upon  real  exist- 
ence, without  sufficient  historical  justification. 

What  we  find  such  a  state  of  Nature  to  be  in  actual  experi- 
ence, answers  exactly  to  the  Idea  of  a  merely  natural  condition. 
Freedom  as  the  ideal  of  that  which  is  original  and  natural,  does 
not  exist  as  original  and  natural.    Rather  must  it  be  first  sought 


INTRODUCTION 


41 


out  and  won;  and  that  by  an  incalculable  medial  discipline 
of  the  intellectual  and  moral  powers.  The  state  of  Nature  is, 
therefore,  predominantly  that  of  injustice  and  violence,  of  un- 
tamed natural  impulses,  of  inhuman  deeds  and  feelings.  Limi- 
tation is  certainly  produced  by  Society  and  the  State,  but  it  is 
a  limitation  of  the  mere  brute  emotions  and  rude  instincts ;  as 
also,  in  a  more  advanced  stage  of  culture,  of  the  premeditated 
self-will  of  caprice  and  passion.  This  kind  of  constraint  is  part 
of  the  instrumentality  by  which  only,  the  consciousness  of  Free- 
dom and  the  desire  for  its  attainment,  in  its  true — that  is  Ra- 
tional and  Ideal  form — can  be  obtained.  To  the  Ideal  of  Free- 
dom, Law  and  Morality  are  indispensably  requisite ;  and  they 
are  in  and  for  themselves,  universal  existences,  objects  and 
aims ;  which  are  discovered  only  by  the  activity  of  thought, 
separating  itself  from  the  merely  sensuous,  and  developing  it- 
self, in  opposition  thereto ;  and  which  must  on  the  other  hand, 
be  introduced  into  and  incorporated  with  the  originally  sensu- 
ous will,  and  that  contrarily  to  its  natural  inclination.  The 
perpetually  recurring  misapprehension  of  Freedom  consists  in 
regarding  that  term  only  in  its  formal,  subjective  sense,  ab- 
stracted from  its  essential  objects  and  aims ;  thus  a  constraint 
put  upon  impulse,  desire,  passion — pertaining  to  the  particular 
individual  as  such — a  limitation  of  caprice  and  self-will  is  re- 
garded as  a  fettering  of  Freedom.  We  should  on  the  contrary 
look  upon  such  limitation  as  the  indispensable  proviso  of  eman- 
cipation. Society  and  the  State  are  the  very  conditions  in 
which  Freedom  is  realized. 

We  must  notice  a  second  view,  contravening  the  principle  of 
the  development  of  moral  relations  into  a  legal  form.  The 
patriarchal  condition  is  regarded — either  in  reference  to  the  en- 
tire race  of  man,  or  to  some  branches  of  it — as  exclusively  that 
condition  of  things,  in  which  the  legal  element  is  combined  with 
a  due  recognition  of  the  moral  and  emotional  parts  of  our 
nature;  and  in  which  justice  as  united  with  these,  truly  and 
really  influences  the  intercourse  of  the  social  units.  The  basis 
of  the  patriarchal  condition  is  the  family  relation ;  which  de- 
velops the  primary  form  of  conscious  morality,  succeeded  by 
that  of  the  State  as  its  second  phase.  The  patriarchal  condition 
is  one  of  transition,  in  which  the  family  has  already  advanced 
to  the  position  of  a  race  or  people ;  where  the  union,  therefore, 
has  already  ceased  to  be  simply  a  bond  of  love  and  confidence, 


42  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

and  has  become  one  of  plighted  service.  We  must  first  examine 
the  ethical  principle  of  the  Family.  The  Family  may  be  reck- 
oned as  virtually  a  single  person  ;  since  its  members  have  either 
mutually  surrendered  their  individual  personality,  (and  conse- 
quently their  legal  position  towards  each  other,  with  the  rest  of 
their  particular  interests  and  desires)  as  in  the  case  of  the 
Parents;  or  have  not  yet  attained  such  an  independent  per- 
sonality— (the  Children — who  are  primarily  in  that  merely 
natural  condition  already  mentioned).  They  live,  therefore,  in 
a  unity  of  feeling,  love,  confidence,  and  faith  in  each  other.  And 
in  a  relation  of  natural  love,  the  one  individual  has  the  con- 
sciousness of  himself  in  the  consciousness  of  the  other ;  he  lives 
out  of  self;  and  in  this  mutual  self-renunciation  each  regains 
the  life  that  had  been  virtually  transferred  to  the  other ;  gains, 
in  fact,  that  other's  existence  and  his  own,  as  involved  with  that 
other.  The  farther  interests  connected  with  the  necessities  and 
external  concerns  of  life,  as  well  as  the  development  that  has 
to  take  place  within  their  circle,  i.e.  of  the  children,  constitute 
a  common  object  for  the  members  of  the  Family.  The  Spirit 
of  the  Family — the  Penates — form  one  substantial  being,  as 
much  as  the  Spirit  of  a  People  in  the  State ;  and  morality  in 
both  cases  consists  in  a  feeling,  a  consciousness,  and  a  will,  not 
limited  to  individual  personality  and  interest,  but  embracing 
the  common  interests  of  the  members  generally.  But  this 
unity  is  in  the  case  of  the  Family  essentially  one  of  feeling;  not 
advancing  beyond  the  limits  of  the  merely  natural.  The  piety 
of  the  Family  relation  should  be  respected  in  the  highest  degree 
by  the  State ;  by  its  means  the  State  obtains  as  its  members 
individuals  who  are  already  moral  (for  as  mere  persons  they  are 
not)  and  who  in  uniting  to  form  a  state  bring  with  them  that 
sound  basis  of  a  political  edifice — the  capacity  of  feeling  one 
with  a  Whole.  But  the  expansion  of  the  Family  to  a  patriarchal 
unity  carries  us  beyond  the  ties  of  blood-relationship — the  sim- 
ply natural  elements  of  that  basis ;  and  outside  of  these  limits 
the  members  of  the  community  must  enter  upon  the  position 
of  independent  personality.  A  review  of  the  patriarchal  condi- 
tion, in  extenso,  would  lead  us  to  give  special  attention  to  the 
Theocratical  Constitution.  The  head  of  the  patriarchal  clan 
is  also  its  priest.  If  the  Family  in  its  general  relations,  is  not 
yet  separated  from  civic  society  and  the  state,  the  separation  of 
religion  from  it  has  also  not  yet  taken  place ;  and  so  much  the 


INTRODUCTION 


43 


less  since  the  piety  of  the  hearth  is  itself  a  profoundly  subjective 
state  of  feeling. 

We  have  considered  two  aspects  of  Freedom, — the  objective 
and  the  subjective ;  if,  therefore,  Freedom  is  asserted  to  con- 
sist in  the  individuals  of  a  State  all  agreeing  in  its  arrangements, 
it  is  evident  that  only  the  subjective  aspect  is  regarded.  The 
natural  inference  from  this  principle  is,  that  no  law  can  be  valid 
without  the  approval  of  all.  This  difficulty  is  attempted*  to  be 
obviated  by  the  decision  that  the  minority  must  yield  to  the 
majority ;  the  majority  therefore  bear  the  sway.  But  long  ago 
J.  J.  Rousseau  remarked  that  in  that  case  there  would  be  no 
longer  freedom,  for  the  will  of  the  minority  would  cease  to  be  re- 
spected. At  the  Polish  Diet  each  single  member  had  to  give 
his  consent  before  any  political  step  could  be  taken ;  and  this 
kind  of  freedom  it  was  that  ruined  the  State.  Besides,  it  is  a 
dangerous  and  false  prejudice,  that  the  People  alone  have  rea- 
son and  insight,  and  know  what  justice  is;  for  each  popular 
faction  may  represent  itself  as  the  People,  and  the  question  as 
to  what  constitutes  the  State  is  one  of  advanced  science,  and  not 
of  popular  decision. 

If  the  principle  of  regard  for  the  individual  will  is  recog- 
nized as  the  only  basis  of  political  liberty,  viz.,  that  nothing 
should  be  done  by  or  for  the  State  to  which  all  the  members 
of  the  body  politic  have  not  given  their  sanction,  we  have, 
properly  speaking,  no  Constitution.  The  only  arrangement  that 
would  be  necessary,  would  be,  first,  a  centre  having  no  will 
of  its  own,  but  which  should  take  into  consideration  what  ap- 
peared to  be  the  necessities  of  the  State ;  and,  secondly,  a  con- 
trivance for  calling  the  members  of  the  State  together,  for  tak- 
ing the  votes,  and  for  performing  the  arithmetical  operations 
of  reckoning  and  comparing  the  number  of  votes  for  the  differ- 
ent propositions,  and  thereby  deciding  upon  them.  The  State 
is  an  abstraction,  having  even  its  generic  existence  in  its  citizens ; 
but  it  is  an  actuality,  and  its  simply  generic  existence  must  em- 
body itself  in  individual  will  and  activity.  The  want  of  govern- 
ment and  political  administration  in  general  is  felt ;  this  neces- 
sitates the  selection  and  separation  from  the  rest  of  those  who 
have  to  take  the  helm  in  political  affairs,  to  decide  concerning 
them,  and  to  give  orders  to  other  citizens,  with  a  view  to  the 
execution  of  their  plans.  If  e.g.  even  the  people  in  a  Democracy 
resolve  on  a  war,  a  genev  al  must  head  the  army.    It  is  only  by 


44  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

a  Constitution  that  the  abstraction — the  State — attains  life  and 
reality;  but  this  involves  the  distinction  between  those  who 
command  and  those  who  obey. — Yet  obedience  seems  incon- 
sistent with  liberty,  and  those  who  command  appear  to  do  the 
very  opposite  of  that  which  the  fundamental  idea  of  the  State, 
viz.  that  of  Freedom,  requires.  It  is,  however,  urged  that — 
though  the  distinction  between  commanding  and  obeying  is 
absolutely  necessary,  because  affairs  could  not  go  on  without  it 
— and  indeed  this  seems  only  a  compulsory  limitation,  external 
to  and  even  contravening  freedom  in  the  abstract — the  consti- 
tution should  be  at  least  so  framed,  that  the  citizens  may  obey 
as  little  as  possible,  and  the  smallest  modicum  of  free  volition 
be  left  to  the  commands  of  the  superiors ; — that  the  substance 
of  that  for  which  subordination  is  necessary,  even  in  its  most 
important  bearings,  should  be  decided  and  resolved  on  by  the 
People — by  the  will  of  many  or  of  all  the  citizens ;  though  it 
is  supposed  to  be  thereby  provided  that  the  State  should  be 
possessed  of  vigor  and  strength  as  a  reality — an  individual 
unity. — The  primary  consideration  is,  then,  the  distinction  be- 
tween the  governing  and  the  governed,  and  the  political  consti- 
tutions in  the  abstract  have  been  rightly  divided  into  Monarchy, 
Aristocracy,  and  Democracy ;  which  gives  occasion,  however, 
to  the  remark  that  Monarchy  itself  must  be  further  divided  into 
Despotism  and  Monarchy  proper ;  that  in  all  the  divisions  to 
which  the  leading  Idea  gives  rise,  only  the  generic  character 
is  to  be  made  prominent — it  being  not  intended  thereby  that 
the  particular  category  under  review  should  be  exhausted  as 
a  Form,  Order,  or  Kind  in  its  concrete  development.  But  es- 
pecially it  must  be  observed,  that  the  above-mentioned  divi- 
sions admit  of  a  multitude  of  particular  modifications — not 
only  such  as  lie  within  the  limits  of  those  classes  themselves — 
but  also  such  as  are  mixtures  of  several  of  these  essentially  dis- 
tinct classes,  and  which  are  consequently  misshapen,  unstable, 
and  inconsistent  forms.  In  such  a  collision,  the  concerning 
question  is,  what  is  the  best  constitution;  that  is,  by  what  arrange- 
ment, organization,  or  mechanism  of  the  power  of  the  State 
its  object  can  be  most  surely  attained.  This  object  may  indeed 
be  variously  understood ;  for  instance,  as  the  calm  enjoyment 
of  life  on  the  part  of  the  citizens,  or  as  Universal  Happiness. 
Such  aims  have  suggested  the  so-called  Ideals  of  Constitutions, 
and — as  a  particular  branch  of  the  subject — Ideals  of  the  Edu- 


INTRODUCTION  45 

cation  of  Princes  (Fenelon),  or  of  the  governing  body — the 
aristocracy  at  large  (Plato) ;  for  the  chief  point  they  treat  of  is 
the  condition  of  those  subjects  who  stand  at  the  head  of  affairs : 
and  in  these  Ideals  the  concrete  details  of  political  organization 
are  not  at  all  considered.  The  inquiry  into  the  best  constitu- 
tion is  frequently  treated  as  if  not  only  the  theory  were  an  affair 
of  subjective  independent  conviction,  but  as  if  the  introduction 
of  a  constitution  recognized  as  the  best — or  as  superior  to 
others — could  be  the  result  of  a  resolve  adopted  in  this  theo- 
retical manner ;  as  if  the  form  of  a  constitution  were  a  matter 
of  free  choice,  determined  by  nothing  else  but  reflection.  Of 
this  artless  fashion  was  that  deliberation — not  indeed  of  the 
Persian  people,  but  of  the  Persian  grandees,  who  had  conspired 
to  overthrow  the  pseudo-Smerdis  and  the  Magi,  after  their  un- 
dertaking had  succeeded,  and  when  there  was  no  scion  of  the 
royal  family  living— as  to  what  constitution  they  should  intro- 
duce into  Persia;  and  Herodotus  gives  an  equally  naive  ac- 
count of  this  deliberation. 

In  the  present  day,  the  Constitution  of  a  country  and  people 
is  not  represented  as  so  entirely  dependent  on  free  and  delib- 
erate choice.  The  fundamental  but  abstractly  (and  therefore 
imperfectly)  entertained  conception  of  Freedom,  has  resulted 
in  the  Republic  being  very  generally  regarded — in  theory — 
as  the  only  just  and  true  political  constitution.  Many  even, 
who  occupy  elevated  official  positions  uncler  monarchical  con- 
stitutions— so  far  from  being  opposed  to  this  idea — are  actually 
its  supporters;  only  they  see  that  such  a  constitution,  though 
the  best,  cannot  be  realized  under  all  circumstances;  and  that 
— while  men  are  what  they  are — we  must  be  satisfied  with  less 
freedom;  the  monarchical  constitution — under  the  given  cir- 
cumstances, and  the  present  moral  condition  of  the  people — 
being  even  regarded  as  the  most  advantageous.  In  this  view 
also,  the  necessity  of  a  particular  constitution  is  made  to  de- 
pend on  the  condition  of  the  people  in  such  a  way  as  if  the 
latter  were  non-essential  and  accidental.  This  representation 
is  founded  on  the  distinction  which  the  reflective  understanding 
makes  between  an  idea  and  the  corresponding  reality ;  holding 
to  an  abstract  and  consequently  untrue  idea ;  not  grasping  it 
in  its  completeness,  or — which  is  virtually,  though  not  in  point 
of  form,  the  same — not  taking  a  concrete  view  of  a  people  and 
a  state.    We  shall  have  to  show  further  on  that  the  constitution 


46  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

adopted  by  a  people  makes  one  substance — one  spirit — with  its 
religion,  its  art  and  philosophy,  or,  at  least,  with  its  concep- 
tions and  thoughts — its  culture  generally;  not  to  expatiate 
upon  the  additional  influences,  ab  extra,  of  climate,  of  neigh- 
bors, of  its  place  in  the  World.  A  State  is  an  individual  totality, 
of  which  you  cannot  select  any  particular  side,  although  a 
supremely  important  one,  such  as  its  political  constitution; 
and  deliberate  and  decide  respecting  it  in  that  isolated  form. 
Not  only  is  that  constitution  most  intimately  connected  with 
and  dependent  on  those  other  spiritual  forces;  but  the  form 
of  the  entire  moral  and  intellectual  individuality — comprising 
all  the  forces  it  embodies — is  only  a  step  in  the  development  of 
the  grand  Whole — with  its  place  preappointed  in  the  process; 
a  fact  which  gives  the  highest  sanction  to  the  constitution  in 
question,  and  establishes  its  absolute  necessity. — The  origin 
of  a  state  involves  imperious  lordship  on  the  one  hand,  instinc- 
tive submission  on  the  other.  But  even  obedience — lordly 
power,  and  the  fear  inspired  by  a  ruler — in  itself  implies  some 
degree  of  voluntary  connection.  Even  in  barbarous  states  this 
is  the  case;  it  is  not  the  isolated  will  of  individuals  that  pre- 
vails; individual  pretensions  are  relinquished,  and  the  general 
will  is  the  essential  bond  of  political  union.  This  unity  of  the 
general  and  the  particular  is  the  Idea  itself,  manifesting  itself 
as  a  state,  and  which  subsequently  undergoes  further  develop- 
ment within  itself.  The  abstract  yet  necessitated  process  in  the 
development  of  truly  independent  states  is  as  follows: — They 
begin  with  regal  power,  whether  of  patriarchal  or  military  ori- 
gin. In  the  next  phase,  particularity  and  individuality  assert 
themselves  in  the  form  of  Aristocracy  and  Democracy.  Lastly, 
we  have  the  subjection  of  these  separate  interests  to  a  single 
power ;  but  which  can  be  absolutely  none  other  than  one  out- 
side of  which  those  spheres  have  an  independent  position,  viz., 
the  Monarchical.  Two  phases  of  royalty,  therefore,  must  be 
distinguished — a  primary  and  a  secondary  one.  This  process 
is  necessitated,  so  that  the  form  of  government  assigned  to 
a  particular  stage  of  development  must  present  itself:  it  is 
therefore  no  matter  of  choice,  but  is  that  form  which  is  adapted 
to  the  spirit  of  the  people. 

In  a  Constitution  the  main  feature  of  interest  is  the  self- 
development  of  the  rational,  that  is,  the  political  condition  of 
a  people;    the  setting  free  of  the  successive  elements  of  the 


INTRODUCTION  47 

Idea:  so  that  the  several  powers  in  the  State  manifest  them- 
selves as  separate — attain  their  appropriate  and  special  perfec- 
tion— and  yet  in  this  independent  condition,  work  together  for 
one  object,  and  are  held  together  by  it — i.e.,  form  an  organic 
whole.  The  State  is  thus  the  embodiment  of  rational  freedom, 
realizing  and  recognizing  itself  in  an  objective  form.  For  its 
objectivity  consists  in  this — that  its  successive  stages  are  not 
merely  ideal,  but  are  present  in  an  appropriate  reality;  and 
that  in  their  separate  and  several  working,  they  are  absolutely 
merged  in  that  agency  by  which  the  totality — the  soul — the 
individuate  unity — is  produced,  and  of  which  it  is  the  result. 

The  State  is  the  Idea  of  Spirit  in  the  external  manifestation 
of  human  Will  and  its  Freedom.  It  is  to  the  State,  therefore, 
that  change  in  the  aspect  of  History  indissolubly  attaches  itself ; 
and  the  successive  phases  of  the  Idea  manifest  themselves  in  it 
as  distinct  political  principles.  The  Constitutions  under  which 
World-Historical  peoples  have  reached  their  culmination,  are 
peculiar  to  them ;  and  therefore  do  not  present  a  generally  ap- 
plicable political  basis.  Were  it  otherwise,  the  differences  of 
similar  constitutions  would  consist  only  in  a  peculiar  method 
of  expanding  and  developing  that  generic  basis ;  whereas  they 
really  originate  in  diversity  of  principle.  From  the  comparison 
therefore  of  the  political  institutions  of  the  ancient  World-His- 
torical peoples,  it  so  happens,  that  for  theonost  recent  principle 
of  a  Constitution — for  the  principle  of  our  own  times — nothing 
(so  to  speak)  can  be  learned.  In  science  and  art  it  is  quite 
otherwise ;  e.g.,  the  ancient  philosophy  is  so  decidedly  the  basis 
of  the  modern,  that  it  is  inevitably  contained  in  the  latter,  and 
constitutes  its  basis.  In  this  case  the  relation  is  that  of  a  con- 
tinuous development  of  the  same  structure,  whose  foundation- 
stone,  walls,  and  roof  have  remained  what  they  were.  In  Art, 
the  Greek  itself,  in  its  original  form,  furnishes  us  the  best 
models.  But  in  regard  to  political  constitution,  it  is  quite  other- 
wise :  here  the  Ancient  and  the  Modern  have  not  their  essential 
principle  in  common.  Abstract  definitions  and  dogmas  respect- 
ing just  government — importing  that  intelligence  and  virtue 
ought  to  bear  sway — are,  indeed,  common  to  both.  But  noth- 
ing is  so  absurd  as  to  look  to  Greeks,  Romans,  or  Orientals, 
for  models  for  the  political  arrangements  of  our  time.  From 
the  East  may  be  derived  beautiful  pictures  of  a  patriarchal 
condition,  of  paternal  government,  and  of  devotion  to  it  on 


48  PHILOSOPHY    OF  HISTORY 

the  part  of  peoples;  from  Greeks  and  Romans,  descriptions 
of  popular  liberty.  Among  the  latter  we  find  the  idea  of  a 
Free  Constitution  admitting  all  the  citizens  to  a  share  in  de- 
liberations and  resolves  respecting  the  affairs  and  laws  of  the 
Commonwealth.  In  our  times,  too,  this  is  its  general  accep- 
tation; only  with  this  modification,  that — since  our  states  are 
so  large,  and  there  are  so  many  of  "  the  Many,"  the  latter — 
direct  action  being  impossible — should  by  the  indirect  method 
of  elective  substitution  express  their  concurrence  with  resolves 
affecting  the  common  weal;  that  is,  that  for  legislative  pur- 
poses generally,  the  people  should  be  represented  by  deputies. 
The  so-called  Representative  Constitution  is  that  form  of  gov- 
ernment with  which  we  connect  the  idea  of  a  free  constitution ; 
and  this  notion  has  become  a  rooted  prejudice.  On  this  theory 
People  and  Government  are  separated.  But  there  is  a  perversity 
in  this  antithesis ;  an  ill-intentioned  ruse  designed  to  insinuate 
that  the  People  are  the  totality  of  the  State.  Besides,  the  basis 
of  this  view  is  the  principle  of  isolated  individuality — the  abso- 
lute validity  of  the  subjective  will — a  dogma  which  we  have 
already  investigated.  The  great  point  is,  that  Freedom  in  its 
Ideal  conception  has  not  subjective  will  and  caprice  for  its 
principle,  but  the  recognition  of  the  universal  will;  and  that 
the  process  by  which  Freedom  is  realized  is  the  free  develop- 
ment of  its  successive  stages.  The  subjective  will  is  a  merely 
formal  determination — a  carte  blanche — not  including  what  it 
is  that  is  willed.  Only  the  rational  will  is  that  universal  prin- 
ciple which  independently  determines  and  unfolds  its  own  be- 
ing, and  develops  its  successive  elemental  phases  as  organic 
members.  Of  this  Gothic-cathedral  architecture  the  ancients 
knew  nothing. 

At  an  earlier  stage  of  the  discussion  we  established  the  two 
elemental  considerations :  first,  the  idea  of  freedom  as  the  abso- 
lute and  final  aim ;  secondly,  the  means  for  realizing  it,  i.e.,  the 
subjective  side  of  knowledge  and  will,  with  its  life,  movement, 
and  activity.  We  then  recognized  the  State  as  the  moral  Whole 
and  the  R.eality  of  Freedom,  and  consequently  as  the  objective 
unity  of  these  two  elements.  For  although  we  make  this  dis- 
tinction into  two  aspects  for  our  consideration,  it  must  be 
remarked  that  they  are  intimately  connected;  and  that  their 
connection  is  involved  in  the  idea  of  each  when  examined  sep- 
arately.   We  have,  on  the  one  hand,  recognized  the  Idea  in 


INTRODUCTION  49 

the  definite  form  of  Freedom  conscious  of  and  willing  itself — 
having  itself  alone  as  its  object:  involving  at  the  same  time, 
the  pure  and  simple  Idea  of  Reason,  and  likewise,  that  which 
we  have  called  subject — self-consciousness — Spirit  actually  ex- 
isting in  the  World.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  consider  Sub- 
jectivity, we  find  that  subjective  knowledge  and  will  is  Thought. 
But  by  the  very  act  of  thoughtful  cognition  and  volition,  I  will 
the  universal  object — the  substance  of  absolute  Reason.  We 
observe,  therefore,  an  essential  union  between  the  objective  side 
— the  Idea — and  the  subjective  side — the  personality  that  con- 
ceives and  wills  it. — The  objective  existence  of  this  union  is  the 
State,  which  is  therefore  the  basis  and  centre  of  the  other  con- 
crete elements  of  the  life  of  a  people — of  Art,  of  Law,  of  Mor- 
als, of  Religion,  of  Science.  All  the  activity  of  Spirit  has  only 
this  object — the  becoming  conscious  of  this  union,  i.e.,  of  its 
own  Freedom.  Among  the  forms  of  this  conscious  union  Re- 
ligion  occupies  the  highest  position.  In  it,  Spirit— rising  above 
the  limitations  of  temporal  and  secular  existence — becomes 
conscious  of  the  Absolute  Spirit,  and  in  this  consciousness  of 
the  self-existent  Being,  renounces  its  individual  interest;  it 
lays  this  aside  in  Devotion — a  state  of  mind  in  which  it  refuses 
to  occupy  itself  any  longer  with  the  limited  and  particular. 
By  Sacrifice  man  expresses  his  renunciation  of  his  property, 
his  will,  his  individual  feelings.  The  religious  concentration 
of  the  soul  appears  in  the  form  of  feeling;  it  nevertheless 
passes  also  into  reflection;  a  form  of  worship  (cultus)  is  a 
result  of  reflection.  The  second  form  of  the  union  of  the  ob- 
jective and  subjective  in  the  human  spirit  is  Art.  This  ad- 
vances farther  into  the  realm  of  the  actual  and  sensuous  than 
Religion.  In  its  noblest  walk  it  is  occupied  with  representing, 
not  indeed,  the  Spirit  of  God,  but  certainly  the  Form  of  God ; 
and  in  its  secondary  aims,  that  which  is  divine  and  spiritual 
generally.  Its  office  is1  to  render  visible  the  Divine ;  presenting 
it  to  the  imaginative  and  intuitive  faculty.  But  the  True  is  the 
object  not  only  of  conception  and  feeling,  as  in  Religion — and 
of  intuition,  as  in  Art — but  also  of  the  thinking  faculty;  and 
this  gives  us  the  third  form  of  the  union  in  question — Philos- 
ophy. This  is  consequently  the  highest,  freest,  and  wisest 
phase.  Of  course  we  are  not  intending  to  investigate  these 
three  phases  here;    they  have  only  suggested  themselves  in 


50  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

virtue  of  their  occupying  the  same  general  ground  as  the  ob- 
ject here  considered — the  State. 

The  general  principle  which  manifests  itself  and  becomes  an 
object  of  consciousness  in  the  State — the  form  under  which 
all  that  the  State  includes  is  brought — is  the  whole  of  that  cycle 
of  phenomena  which  constitutes  the  culture  of  a  nation.  But 
the  definite  substance  that  receives  the  form  of  universality, 
and  exists  in  that  concrete  reality  which  is  the  State — is  the" 
Spirit  of  the  People  itself.  The  actual  State  is  animated  by  this 
spirit,  in  all  its  particular  affairs — its  Wars,  Institutions,  etc. 
But  man  must  also  attain  a  conscious  realization  of  this  his 
Spirit  and  essential  nature,  and  of  his  original  identity  with  it. 
For  we  said  that  morality  is  the  identity  of  the  subjective  or 
personal  with  the  universal  will.  Now  the  mind  must  give 
itself  an  express  consciousness  of  this;  and  the  focus  of  this 
knowledge  is  Religion.  Art  and  Science  are  only  various  as- 
pects and  forms  of  the  same  substantial  being. — In  considering 
Religion,  the  chief  point  of  inquiry  is,  whether  it  recognizes 
the  True — the  Idea — only  in  its  separate,  abstract  form,  or  in 
its  true  unity;  in  separation — God  being  represented  in  an 
abstract  form  as  the  Highest  Being,  Lord  of  Heaven  and  Earth, 
living  in  a  remote  region  far  from  human  actualities — or  in 
its  unity — God,  as  Unity  of  the  Universal  and  Individual ;  the 
Individual  itself  assuming  the  aspect  of  positive  and  real  ex- 
istence in  the  idea  of  the  Incarnation.  Religion  is  the  sphere 
in  which  a  nation  gives  itself  the  definition  of  that  which  it 
regards  as  the  True.  A  definition  contains  everything  that 
belongs  to  the  essence  of  an  object;  reducing  its  nature  to  its 
simple  characteristic  predicate,  as  a  mirror  for  every  predicate 
— the  generic  soul  pervading  all  its  details.  The  conception 
of  God,  therefore,  constitutes  the  general  basis  of  a  people's 
character. 

In  this  aspect,  religion  stands  in  the  closest  connection  with 
the  political  principle.  Freedom  can  exist  only  where  Individ- 
uality is  recognized  as  having  its  positive  and  real  existence 
in  the  Divine  Being.  The  connection  may  be  further  explained 
thus: — Secular  existence,  as  merely  temporal — occupied  with 
particular  interests — is  consequently  only  relative  and  unau- 
thorized ;  and  receives  its  validity  only  in  as  far  as  the  universal 
soul  that  pervades  it- — its  principle — receives  absolute  validity; 
which  it  cannot  have  unless  it  is  recognized  as  the  definite 


INTRODUCTION  51 

manifestation,  the  phenomenal  existence  of  the  Divine  Essence. 
On  this  account  it  is  that  the  State  rests  on  Religion.  We 
hear  this  often  repeated  in  our  times,  though  for  the  most  part 
nothing  further  is  meant  than  that  individual  subjects  as  God- 
fearing men  would  be  more  disposed  and  ready  to  perform 
their  duty ;  since  obedience  to  King  and  Law  so  naturally  fol- 
lows in  the  train  of  reverence  for  God.  This  reverence,  in- 
deed, since  it  exalts  the  general  over  the  special,  may  even  turn 
upon  the  latter — become  fanatical — and  work  with  incendiary 
and  destructive  violence  against  the  State,  its  institutions,  and 
arrangements.  Religious  feeling,  therefore,  it  is  tho  light,  should 
be  sober — kept  in  a  certain  degree  of  coolness — that  it  may  not 
storm  against  and  bear  down  that  which  should  be  defended 
and  preserved  by  it.  The  possibility  of  such  a  catastrophe  is 
at  least  latent  in  it. 

While,  however,  the  correct  sentiment  is  adopted,  that  the 
State  is  based  on  Religion,  the  position  thus  assigned  to  Re- 
ligion supposes  the  State  already  to  exist ;  and  that  subse- 
quently, in  order  to  maintain  it,  Religion  must  be  brought  into 
it — in  buckets  and  bushels  as  it  were — and  impressed  upon 
people's  hearts.  It  is  quite  true  that  men  must  be  trained  to 
religion,  but  not  as  to  something  whose  existence  has  yet  to 
begin.  For  in  affirming  that  the  State  is  based  on  Religion 
— that  it  has  its  roots  in  it — we  virtually  assert  that  the  former 
has  proceeded  from  the  latter;  and  that  this  derivation  is 
going  on  now  and  will  always  continue;  i.e.,  the  principles 
of  the  State  must  be  regarded  as  valid  in  and  for  themselves, 
which  can  only  be  in  so  far  as  they  are  recognized  as  deter- 
minate manifestations  of  the  Divine  Nature.  The  form  of 
Religion,  therefore,  decides  that  of  the  State  and  its  constitu- 
tion. The  latter  actually  originated  in  the  particular  religion 
adopted  by  the  nation;  so  that,  in  fact,  the  Athenian  or  the 
Roman  State  was  possible  only  in  connection  with  the  specific 
form  of  Heathenism  existing  among  the  respective  peoples; 
just  as  a  Catholic  State  has  a  spirit  and  constitution  different 
from  that  of  a  Protestant  one. 

If  that  outcry — that  urging  and  striving  for  the  implanta- 
tion of  Religion  in  the  community — were  an  utterance  of  an- 
guish and  a  call  for  help,  as  it  often  seems  to  be,  expressing 
the  danger  of  religion  having  vanished,  or  being  about  to 
vanish  entirely  from  the  State — that  would  be  fearful  indeed — ■ 


52  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

worse,  in  fact,  than  this  outcry  supposes;  for  it  implies  the 
belief  in  a  resource  against  the  evil,  viz.,  the  implantation  and 
inculcation  of  religion;  whereas  religion  is  by  no  means  a 
thing  to  be  so  produced;  its  self-production  (and  there  can  be 
no  other)  lies  much  deeper. 

Another  and  opposite  folly  which  we  meet  with  in  our  time, 
is  that  of  pretending  to  invent  and  carry  out  political  consti- 
tutions independently  of  religion.  The  Catholic  confession, 
although  sharing  the  Christian  name  with  the  Protestant,  does 
not  concede  to  the  State  an  inherent  Justice  and  Morality — 
a  concession  which  in  the  Protestant  principle  is  fundamental. 
This  tearing  away  of  the  political  morality  of  the  Constitution 
from  its  natural  connection,  is  necessary  to  the  genius  of  that 
religion,  inasmuch  as  it  does  not  recognize  Justice  and  Morality 
as  independent  and  substantial.  But  thus  excluded  from  in- 
trinsic worth — torn  away  from  their  last  refuge — the  sanctuary 
of  conscience — the  calm  retreat  where  religion  has  its  abode — 
the  principles  and  institutions  of  political  legislation  are  desti- 
tute of  a  real  centre,  to  the  same  degree  as  they  are  compelled 
to  remain  abstract  and  indefinite. 

Summing  up  what  has  been  said  of  the  State,  we  find  that 
we  have  been  led  to  call  its  vital  principle,  as  actuating  the 
individuals  who  compose  it — Morality.  The  State,  its  laws, 
its  arrangements,  constitute  the  rights  of  its  members;  its 
natural  features,  its  mountains,  air,  and  waters,  are  their  coun- 
try, their  fatherland,  their  outward  material  property;  the 
history  of  this  State,  their  deeds;  what  their  ancestors  have 
produced  belongs  to  them  and  lives  in  their  memory.  All 
is  their  possession,  just  as  they  are  possessed  by  it;  for  it 
constitutes  their  existence,  their  being. 

Their  imagination  is  occupied  with  the  ideas  thus  presented, 
while  the  adoption  of  these  laws,  and  of  a  fatherland  so  condi- 
tioned is  the  expression  of  their  will.  It  is  this  matured  totality 
Avhich  thus  constitutes  one  Being,  the  spirit  of  one  People. 
To  it  the  individual  members  belong;  each  unit  is  the  Son 
of  his  Nation,  and  at  the  same  time — in  as  far  as  the  State 
to  which  he  belongs  is  undergoing  development — the  Son  of 
his  Age.  None  remains  behind  it,  still  less  advances  beyond  it. 
This  spiritual  Being  (the  Spirit  of  his  Time)  is  his;  he  is  a 
representative  of  it;  it  is  that  in  which  he  originated,  and  in 
which  he  lives.    Among  the  Athenians  the  word  Athens  had  a 


INTRODUCTION  53 

double  import;  suggesting-  primarily  a  complex  of  political 
institutions,  but  no  less,  in  the  second  place,  that  Goddess  who 
represented  the  Spirit  of  the  People  and  its  unity. 

This  Spirit  of  a  People  is  a  determinate  and  particular  Spirit, 
and  is,  as  just  stated,  further  modified  by  the  degree  of  its 
historical  development.  This  Spirit,  then,  constitutes  the  basis 
and  substance  of  those  other  forms  of  a  nation's  consciousness, 
which  have  been  noticed.  For  Spirit  in  its  self-consciousness 
must  become  an  object  of  contemplation  to  itself,  and  objec- 
tivity involves,  in  the  first  instance,  the  rise  of  differences  which 
make  up  a  total  of  distinct  spheres  of  objective  spirit;  in  the 
same  way  as  the  Soul  exists  only  as  the  complex  of  its  facul- 
ties, which  in  their  form  of  concentration  in  a  simple  unity 
produce  that  Soul.  It  is  thus  One  Individuality  which,  pre- 
sented in  its  essence  as  God,  is  honored  and  enjoyed  in  Re- 
ligion; which  is  exhibited  as  an  object  of  sensuous  contempla- 
tion in  Art;  and  is  apprehended  as  an  intellectual  conception, 
in  Philosophy.  In  virtue  of  the  original  identity  of  their  es- 
sence, purport,  and  object,  these  various  forms  are  inseparably 
united  with  the  Spirit  of  the  State.  Only  in  connection  with 
this  particular  religion,  can  this  particular  political  constitution 
exist ;  just  as  in  such  or  such  a  State,  such  or  such  a  Philosophy 
or  order  of  Art. 

The  remark  next  in  order  is,  that  each  particular  National 
genius  is  to  be  treated  as  only  One  Individual  in  the  process 
of  Universal  History.  For  that  history  is  the  exhibition  of  the 
divine,  absolute  development  of  Spirit  in  its  highest  forms — 
that  gradation  by  which  it  attains  its  truth  and  consciousness 
of  itself.  The  forms  which  these  grades  of  progress  assume 
are  the  characteristic  "  National  Spirits  "  of  History ;  the  pe- 
culiar tenor  of  their  moral  life,  of  their  Government,  their  Art, 
Religion,  and  Science.  To  realize  these  grades  is  the  boundless 
impulse  of  the  World- Spirit — the  goal  of  its  irresistible  urging; 
for  this  division  into  organic  members,  and  the  full  develop- 
ment of  each,  is  its  Idea. — Universal  History  is  exclusively 
occupied  with  showing  how  Spirit  comes  to  a  recognition  and 
adoption  of  the  Truth :  the  dawn  of  knowledge  appears ;  it  be- 
gins to  discover  salient  principles,  and  at  last  it  arrives  at  full 
consciousness. 

Having,  therefore,  learned  the  abstract  characteristics  of 
the  nature  of  Spirit,  the  means  which  it  uses  to  realize  its 


54 


PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 


Idea,  and  the  shape  assumed  by  it  in  its  complete  realization  in 
phenomenal  existence — namely,  the  State — nothing  further  re- 
mains for  this  introductory  section  to  contemplate  but 

III.  The  course  of  the  World's  History. — The  mutations 
which  history  presents  have  been  long  characterized  in  the 
general,  as  an  advance  to  something  better,  more  perfect.  The 
changes  that  take  place  in  Nature — how  infinitely  manifold 
soever  they  may  be — exhibit  only  a  perpetually  self-repeating 
cycle ;  in  Nature  there  happens  "  nothing  new  under  the  sun," 
and  the  multiform  play  of  its  phenomena  so  far  induces  a  feel- 
ing of  ennui;  only  in  those  changes  which  take  place  in  the 
region  of  Spirit  does  anything  new  arise.  This  peculiarity  in 
the  world  of  mind  has  indicated  in  the  case  of  man  an  altogether 
different  destiny  from  that  of  merely  natural  objects — in  which 
we  find  always  one  and  the  same  stable  character,  to  which  all 
change  reverts; — namely,  a  real  capacity  for  change,  and  that 
for  the  better — an  impulse  of  perfectibility.  This  principle, 
which  reduces  change  itself  under  a  law,  has  met  with  an  un- 
favorable reception  from  religions — such  as  the  Catholic — and 
from  States  claiming  as  their  just  right  a  stereotyped,  or  at  least 
a  stable  position.  If  the  mutability  of  worldly  things  in  gen- 
eral— political  constitutions,  for  instance — is  conceded,  either 
Religion  (as  the  Religion  of  Truth)  is  absolutely  excepted,  or 
the  difficulty  escaped  by  ascribing  changes,  revolutions,  and 
abrogations  of  immaculate  theories  and  institutions,  to  acci- 
dents or  imprudence — but  principally  to  the  levity  and  evil 
passions  of  man.  The  principle  of  Perfectibility  indeed  is  al- 
most as  indefinite  a  term  as  mutability  in  general ;  it  is  without 
scope  or  goal,  and  has  no  standard  by  which  to  estimate  the 
changes  in  question :  the  improved,  more  perfect,  state  of  things 
towards  which  it  professedly  tends  is  altogether  undetermined. 

The  principle  of  Development  involves  also  the  existence  of 
a  latent  germ  of  being — a  capacity  or  potentiality  striving  to 
realize  itself.  This  formal  conception  finds  actual  existence 
in  Spirit ;  which  has  the  History  of  the  World  for  its  theatre, 
its  possession,  and  the  sphere  of  its  realization.  It  is  not  of 
such  a  nature  as  to  be  tossed  to  and  fro  amid  the  superficial  play 
of  accidents,  but  is  rather  the  absolute  arbiter  of  things ;  en- 
tirely unmoved  by  contingencies,  which,  indeed,  it  applies  and 
manages  for  its  own  purposes.  Development,  however,  is  also 
a  property  of  organized  natural  objects.    Their  existence  pre- 


INTRODUCTION  55 

sents  itself,  not  as  an  exclusively  dependent  one,  subjected  to 
external  changes,  but  as  one  which  expands  itself  in  virtue 
of  an  internal  unchangeable  principle;  a  simple  essence — 
whose  existence,  i.e.,  as  a  germ,  is  primarily  simple — but  which 
subsequently  develops  a  variety  of  parts,  that  become  involved 
with  other  objects,  and  consequently  live  through  a  continuous 
process  of  changes ; — a  process  nevertheless,  that  results  in  the 
very  contrary  of  change,  and  is  even  transformed  into  a  vis 
conservatrix  of  the  organic  principle,  and  the  form  embodying 
it.  Thus  the  organized  individuum  produces  itself ;  it  expands 
itself  actually  to  what  it  was  always  potentially. — So  Spirit  is 
only  that  which  it  attains  by  its  own  efforts;  it  makes  itself 
actually  what  it  always  was  potentially. — That  development  (of 
natural  organisms)  takes  place  in  a  direct,  unopposed,  unhin- 
dered manner.  Between  the  Idea  and  its  realization — the  es- 
sential constitution  of  the  original  germ  and  the  conformity  to 
it  of  the  existence  derived  from  it — no  disturbing  influence  can 
intrude.  But  in  relation  to  Spirit  it  is  quite  otherwise.  The 
realization  of  its  Idea  is  mediated  by  consciousness  and  will; 
these  very  faculties  are,  in  the  first  instance,  sunk  in  their  pri- 
mary merely  natural  life;  the  first  object  and  goal  of  their 
striving  is  the  realization  of  their  merely  natural  destiny — 
but  which,  since  it  is  Spirit  that  animates  it,  is  possessed  of 
vast  attractions  and  displays  great  power  and  (moral)  richness. 
Thus  Spirit  is  at  war  with  itself;  it  has  to  overcome  itself 
as  its  most  formidable  obstacle.  That  development  which  in 
the  sphere  of  Nature  is  a  peaceful  growth  is,  in  that  of  spirit, 
a  severe,  a  mighty  conflict  with  itself.  What  Spirit  really 
strives  for  is  the  realization  of  its  Ideal  being;  but  in  doing 
so,  it  hides  that  goal  from  its  own  vision,  and  is  proud  and  well 
satisfied  in  this  alienation  from  it. 

Its  expansion,  therefore,  does  not  present  the  harmless  tran- 
quillity of  mere  growth,  as  does  that  of  organic  life,  but  a  stern 
reluctant  working  against  itself.  It  exhibits,  moreover,  not 
the  mere  formal  conception  of  development,  but  the  attainment 
of  a  definite  result.  The  goal  of  attainment  we  determined  at 
the  outset :  it  is  Spirit  in  its  Completeness,  in  its  essential  nature, 
i.e.,  Freedom.  This  is  the  fundamental  object,  and  therefore 
also  the  leading  principle  of  the  development — that  whereby  it 
receives  meaning  and  importance  (as  in  the  Roman  history, 
Rome  is  the  object — consequently  that  which  directs  our  con- 


56  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

sideration  of  the  facts  related) ;  as,  conversely,  the  phenomena 
of  the  process  have  resulted  from  this  principle  alone,  and  only 
as  referred  to  it,  possess  a  sense  of  value.  There  are  many  con- 
siderable periods  in  History  in  which  this  development  seems 
to  have  been  intermitted;  in  which,  we  might  rather  say,  the 
whole  enormous  gain  of  previous  culture  appears  to  have  been 
entirely  lost ;  after  which,  unhappily,  a  new  commencement  has 
been  necessary,  made  in  the  hope  of  recovering — by  the  assist- 
ance of  some  remains  saved  from  the  wreck  of  a  former  civiliza- 
tion, and  by  dint  of  a  renewed  incalculable  expenditure  of 
strength  and  time — one  of  the  regions  which  had  been  an  an- 
cient possession  of  that  civilization.  We  behold  also  continued 
processes  of  growth ;  structures  and  systems  of  culture  in  par- 
ticular spheres,  rich  in  kind,  and  well  developed  in  every  direc- 
tion. The  merely  formal  and  indeterminate  view  of  develop- 
ment in  general  can  neither  assign  to  one  form  of  expansion 
superiority  over  the  other,  nor  render  comprehensible  the  object 
of  that  decay  of  older  periods  of  growth;  but  must  regard 
such  occurrences — or,  to  speak  more  particularly,  the  retro- 
cessions they  exhibit — as  external  contingencies ;  and  can  only 
judge  of  particular  modes  of  development  from  indeterminate 
points  of  view ;  which — since  the  development,  as  such,  is  all 
in  all — are  relative  and  not  absolute  goals  of  attainment. 

Universal  History  exhibits  the  gradation  in  the  development 
of  that  principle  whose  substantial  purport  is  the  consciousness 
of  Freedom.  The  analysis  of  the  successive  grades,  in  their 
abstract  form,  belongs  to  Logic ;  in  their  concrete  aspect  to 
the  Philosophy  of  Spirit.  Here  it  is  sufficient  to  state  that  the 
first  step  in  the  process  presents  that  immersion,  of  Spirit  in 
Nature  which  has  been  already  referred  to;  the  second  shows 
it  as  advancing  to  the  consciousness  of  its  freedom.  But  this 
initial  separation  from  Nature  is  imperfect  and  partial,  since 
it  is  derived  immediately  from  the  merely  natural  state,  is 
consequently  related  to  it,  and  is  still  encumbered  with  it  as 
an  essentially  connected  element.  The  third  step  is  the  elevation 
of  the  soul  from  this  still  limited  and  special  form  of  freedom 
to  its  pure  universal  form ;  that  state  in  which  the  spiritual 
essence  attains  the  consciousness  and  feeling  of  itself.  These 
grades  are  the  ground-principles  of  the  general  process ;  but 
how  each  of  them  on  the  other  hand  involves  within  itself 
a  process  of  formation — constituting  the  links  in  a  dialectic 


INTRODUCTION  57 

of  transition — to  particularize  this  must  be  reserved  for  the 
sequel. 

Here  we  have  only  to  indicate  that  Spirit  begins  with  a 
germ  of  infinite  possibility,  but  only  possibility — containing 
its  substantial  existence  in  an  undeveloped  form,  as  the  object 
and  goal  which  it  reaches  only  in  its  resultant — full  reality. 
In  actual  existence  Progress  appears  as  an  advancing  from  the 
imperfect  to  the  more  perfect;  but  the  former  must  not  be 
understood  abstractly  as  only  the  imperfect,  but  as  something 
which  involves  the  very  opposite  of  itself — the  so-called  perfect 
— as  a  germ  or  impulse.  So — reflectively,  at  least — possibility 
points  to  something  destined  to  become  actual ;  the  Aristo- 
telian 8uva/u<;  is  also  potentia,  power  and  might.  Thus  the 
Imperfect,  as  involving  its  opposite,  is  a  contradiction,  which 
certainly  exists,  but  which  is  continually  annulled  and  solved ; 
the  instinctive  movement — the  inherent  impulse  in  the  life  of 
the  soul — to  break  through  the  rind  of  mere  nature,  sensu- 
ousness,  and  that  which  is  alien  to  it,  and  to  attain  to  the  light 
of  consciousness,  i.e.  to  itself. 

We  have  already  made  the  remark  how  the  commencement 
of  the  history  of  Spirit  must  be  conceived  so  as  to  be  in  har- 
mony with  its  Idea — in  its  bearing  on  the  representations  that 
have  been  made  of  a  primitive  "  natural  condition,"  in  which 
freedom  and  justice  are  supposed  to  exist,  or  to  have  existed. 
This  was,  however,  nothing  more  than  ah  assumption  of  his- 
torical existence,  conceived  in  the  twilight  of  theorizing  re- 
flection. A  pretension  of  quite  another  order — not  a  mere 
inference  of  reasoning,  but  making  the  claim  of  historical  fact, 
and  that  supernaturally  confirmed — is  put  forth  in  connection 
with  a  different  view  that  is  now  widely  promulgated  by  a 
certain  class  of  speculatists.  This  view  takes  up  the  idea  of 
the  primitive  paradisiacal  conditon  of  man,  which  had  been 
previously  expanded  by  the  Theologians,  after  their  fashion 
— involving,  e.g.,  the  supposition  that  God  spoke  with  Adam 
in  Hebrew — but  remodelled  to  suit  other  requirements.  The 
high  authority  appealed  to  in  the  first  instance  is  the  biblical 
narrative.  But  this  depicts  the  primitive  condition,  partly  only 
in  the  few  well-known  traits,  but  partly  either  as  in  man  gener- 
ically — human  nature  at  large — or,  so  far  as  Adam  is  to  be 
taken  as  an  individual,  and  consequently  one  person — as  exist- 
ing and  completed  in  this  one,  or  only  in  one  human  pair.    The 


58  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

biblical  account  by  no  means  justifies  us  in  imagining  a  people, 
and  a  historical  condition  of  such  people,  existing  in  that  prim- 
itive form ;  still  less  does  it  warrant  us  in  attributing  to  them 
the  possession  of  a  perfectly  developed  knowledge  of  God  and 
Nature.  "  Nature,"  so  the  fiction  runs,  "  like  a  clear  mirror  of 
God's  creation,  had  originally  lain  revealed  and  transparent  to 
the  unclouded  eye  of  man."  *  Divine  Truth  is  imagined  to 
have  been  equally  manifest.  It  is  even  hinted,  though  left  in 
some  degree  of  obscurity,  that  in  this  primary  condition  men 
were  in  possession  of  an  indefinitely  extended  and  already  ex- 
panded body  of  religious  truths  immediately  revealed  by  God. 
This  theory  affirms  that  all  religions  had  their  historical  com- 
mencement in  this  primitive  knowledge,  and  that  they  polluted 
and  obscured  the  original  Truth  by  the  monstrous  creations  of 
error  and  depravity;  though  in  all  the  mythologies  invented 
by  Error,  traces  of  that  origin  and  of  those  primitive  true 
dogmas  are  supposed  to  be  present  and  cognizable.  An  im- 
portant interest,  therefore,  accrues  to  the  investigation  of  the 
history  of  ancient  peoples,  that,  viz.,  of  the  endeavor  to  trace 
their  annals  up  to  the  point  where  such  fragments  of  the  pri- 
mary revelation  are  to  be  met  with  in  greater  purity  than  lower 
down.f 

We  owe  to  the  interest  which  has  occasioned  these  investiga- 
tions, very  much  that  is  valuable ;  but  this  investigation  bears 
direct  testimony  against  itself,  for  it  would  seem  to  be  awaiting 
the  issue  of  an  historical  demonstration  of  that  which  is  pre- 

*  Fr.  von  Schlegel,  "  Philosophy  of  clearer  evidence  in  point  of  subject  mat- 
History,"  p.  91,  Bonn's  Standard  Li-  ter.  The  savans,  M.  Abel  Remusat  and 
brary.  M.  Saint  Martin,  on  the  one  hand,  have 

t  We  have  to  thank  this  interest  for  undertaken  the  most  meritorious  investi- 
many  valuable  discoveries  in  Oriental  gations  in  the  Chinese  literature,  with  a 
literature,  and  for  a  renewed  study  of  view  to  make  this  also  a  base  of  opera- 
treasures  previously  known,  in  the  de-  tions  for  researches  in  the  Mongolian 
partment  of  ancient  Asiatic  Culture,  and,  if  such  were  possible,  in  the  Thibe- 
Mythology,  Religions,  and  History.  In  tan  ;  on  the  other  hand,  Baron  von 
Catholic  countries,  where  a  refined  lit-  Eckstein  —  in  his  way  (i.e.,  adopting 
erary  taste  prevails,  Governments  have  from  Germany  superficial  physical  con- 
yielded  to  the  requirements  of  specula-  ceptions  and  mannerisms,  in  the  style  of 
tive  inquiry,  and  have  felt  the  necessity  Fr.  v.  Schlegel,  though  with  more  genial- 
of  allying  themselves  with  learning  and  ity  than  the  latter)  in  his  periodical,  "  Le 
philosophy.  Eloquently  and  impressive-  Catholique  " — has  furthered  the  cause  of 
ly  has  the  Abbe  Lamennais  reckoned  it  that  primitive  Catholicism  generally,  and 
among  the  criteria  of  the  true  religion,  in  particular  has  gained  for  the  savans 
that  it  must  be  the  universal — that  is,  of  the  Congregation  the  support  of  the 
catholic — and  the  oldest  in  date;  and  the  Government;  so  that  it  has  even  set  on 
Congregation  has  labored  zealously  and  foot  expeditions  to  the  East,  in  order  to 
diligently  in  France  towards  rendering  discover  there  treasures  still  concealed; 
such  assertions  no  longer  mere  pulpit  (from  which  further  disclosures  have 
tirades  and  authoritative  dicta,  such  as  been  anticipated,  respecting  profound 
were  deemed  sufficient  formerly.  The  theological  questions,  particularly  on  the 
religion  of  Buddha— a  god-man — which  higher  antiquity  and  sources  of  Buddh- 
has  prevailed  to  such  an  enormous  ex-  ism),  and  with  a  view  to  promote  the  in- 
tent, has  especially  attracted  attention.  terests  of  Catholicism  by  this  circuitous 
The  Indian  Timurtis,  as  also  the  Chinese  but  scientifically  interesting  method, 
abstraction  of  the  Trinity,  has  furnished 


INTRODUCTION  59 

supposed  by  it  as  historically  established.  That  advanced  con- 
dition of  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  of  other  scientific,  e.g., 
astronomical,  knowledge  (such  as  has  been  falsely  attributed  to 
the  Hindoos) ;  and  the  assertion  that  such  a  condition  occurred 
at  the  very  beginning  of  History — or  that  the  religions  of 
various  nations  were  traditionally  derived  from  it,  and  have 
developed  themselves  in  degeneracy  and  depravation  (as  is  rep- 
resented in  the  rudely-conceived  so-called  "  Emanation  Sys- 
tem ") ; — all  these  are  suppositions  which  neither  have,  nor — 
if  we  may  contrast  with  their  arbitrary  subjective  origin,  the 
true  conception  of  History — can  attain  historical  confirmation. 
The  only  consistent  and  worthy  method  which  philosophical 
investigation  can  adopt  is  to  take  up  History  where  Rationality 
begins  to  manifest  itself  in  the  actual  conduct  of  the  World's 
affairs  (not  where  it  is  merely  an  undeveloped  potentiality) — 
where  a  condition  of  things  is  present  in  which  it  realizes  itself 
in  consciousness,  will  and  action.  The  inorganic  existence  of 
Spirit — that  of  abstract  Freedom — unconscious  torpidity  in  re- 
spect to  good  and  evil  (and  consequently  to  laws),  or,  if  we 
please  to  term  it  so, "  blessed  ignorance  " — is  itself  not  a  subject 
of  History.  Natural,  and  at  the  same  time  religious  morality,  is 
the  piety  of  the  family.  In  this  social  relation,  morality  consists 
in  the  members  behaving  towards  each  other  not  as  individuals 
— possessing  an  independent  will ;  not  as  persons.  The  Family 
therefore,  is  excluded  from  that  process  of  development  in  which 
History  takes  its  rise.  But  when  this  self-involved  spiritual 
Unity  steps  beyond  this  circle  of  feeling  and  natural  love,  and 
first  attains  the  consciousness  of  personality,  we  have  that  dark, 
dull  centre  of  indifference,  in  which  neither  Nature. nor  Spirit 
is  open  and  transparent ;  and  for  which  Nature  and  Spirit  can 
become  open  and  transparent  only  by  means  of  a  further  proc- 
ess— a  very  lengthened  culture  of  that  Will  at  length  become 
self-conscious.  Consciousness  alone  is  clearness;  and  is  that 
alone  for  which  God  (or  any  other  existence)  can  be  revealed. 
In  its  true  form — in  absolute  universality — nothing  can  be 
manifested  except  to  consciousness  made  percipient  of  it. 
Freedom  is  nothing  but  the  recognition  and  adoption  of  such 
universal  substantial  objects  as  Right  and  Law,  and  the  produc- 
tion of  a  reality  that  is  accordant  with  them — the  State.  Na- 
tions may  have  passed  a  long  life  before  arriving  at  this  their 

destination,  and  during  this  period,  they  may  have  attained 
Vol.  23  D — Classics 


60  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

considerable  culture  in  some  directions.  This  ante-historical 
period — consistently  with  what  has  been  said — lies  out  of  our 
plan  ;  whether  a  real  history  followed  it,  or  the  peoples  in  ques- 
tion never  attained  a  political  constitution. — It  is  a  great  dis- 
covery in  history — as  of  a  new  world — which-has  been  made 
within  rather  more  than  the  last  twenty  years,  respecting  the 
Sanscrit  and  the  connection  of  the  European  languages  with 
it.  In  particular,  the  connection  of  the  German  and  Indian 
peoples  has  been  demonstrated,  with  as  much  certainty  as  such 
subjects  allow  of.  Even  at  the  present  time  we  know  of  peoples 
which  scarcely  form  a  society,  much  less  a  State,  but  that  have 
been  long  known  as  existing;  while  with  regard  to  others, 
which  in  their  advanced  condition  excite  our  especial  interest, 
tradition  reaches  beyond  the  record  of  the  founding  of  the  State, 
and  they  experienced  many  changes  prior  to  that  epoch.  In 
the  connection  just  referred  to,  between  the  languages  of  na- 
tions so  widely  separated,  we  have  a  result  before  us,  which 
proves  the  diffusion  of  those  nations  from  Asia  as  a  centre,  and 
the  so  dissimilar  development  of  what  had  been  originally  re- 
lated, as  an  incontestable  fact ;  not  as  an  inference  deduced  by 
that  favorite  method  of  combining,  and  reasoning  from,  cir- 
cumstances grave  and  trivial,  which  has  already  enriched  and 
will  continue  to  enrich  history  with  so  many  fictions  given  out 
as  facts.  But  that  apparently  so  extensive  range  of  events  lies 
beyond  the  pale  of  history ;  in  fact  preceded  it. 

In  our  language  the  term  History  *  unites  the  objective  with 
the  subjective  side,  and  denotes  quite  as  much  the  historia  rerum 
gestarum,  as  the  res  gestce  themselves ;  on  the  other  hand  it 
comprehends  not  less  what  has  happened,  than  the  narration  of 
what  has  happened.  This  union  of  the  two  meanings  we  must 
regard  as  of  a  higher  order  than  mere  outward  accident ;  we 
must  suppose  historical  narrations  to  have  appeared  contem- 
poraneously with  historical  deeds  and  events.  It  is  an  internal 
vital  principle  common  to  both  that  produces  them  synchron- 
ously. Family  memorials,  patriarchal  traditions,  have  an  inter- 
est confined  to  the  family  and  the  clan.  The  uniform  course 
of  events  which  such  a  condition  implies,  is  no  subject  of  serious 
remembrance ;  though  distinct  transactions  or  turns  of  fortune, 
may  rouse  Mnemosyne  to  form  conceptions  of  them — in  the 
same  way  as  love  and  the  religious  emotions  provoke  imagina- 

•  German,  "  Gescbicbte  "  from  "  Geschehen,"  to  happen.— Ed. 


INTRODUCTION  61 

tion  to  give  shape  to  a  previously  formless  impulse.  But  it  is 
the  State  which  first  presents  subject-matter  that  is  not  only 
adapted  to  the  prose  of  History,  but  involves  the  production  of 
such  history  in  the  very  progress  of  its  own  being.  Instead 
of  merely  subjective  mandates  on  the  part  of  government- 
sufficing  for  the  needs  of  the  moment — a  community  that  is 
acquiring  a  stable  existence,  and  exalting  itself  into  a  State, 
requires  formal  commands  and  laws — comprehensive  and  uni- 
versally binding  prescriptions ;  and  thus  produces  a  record  as 
well  as  an  interest  concerned  with  intelligent,  definite — and, 
in  their  results — lasting  transactions  and  occurrences;  on 
which  Mnemosyne,  for  the  behoof  of  the  perennial  object  of  the 
formation  and  constitution  of  the  State,  is  impelled  to  confer 
perpetuity.  Profound  sentiments  generally,  such  as  that  of 
love,  as  also  religious  intuition  and  its  conceptions,  are  in  them- 
selves complete — constantly  present  and  satisfying;  but  that 
outward'  existence  of  a  political  constitution  which  is  enshrined 
in  its  rational  laws  and  customs,  is  an  imperfect  Present ;  and 
cannot  be  thoroughly  understood  without  a  knowledge  of  the 
past. 

The  periods — whether  we  suppose  them  to  be  centuries  or 
millennia — that  were  passed  by  nations  before  history  was  writ- 
ten among  them — and  which  may  have  been  filled  with  revo- 
lutions, nomadic  wanderings,  and  the  strangest  mutations — ■ 
are  on  that  very  account  destitute  of  objective  history,  because 
they  present  no  subjective  history,  no  annals.  We  need  not 
suppose  that  the  records  of  such  periods  have  accidentally  per- 
ished ;  rather,  because  they  were  not  possible,  do  we  find  them 
wanting.  Only  in  a  State  cognizant  of  Laws,  can  distinct  trans- 
actions take  place,  accompanied  by  such  a  clear  consciousness 
of  them  as  supplies  the  ability  and  suggests  the  necessity  of  an 
enduring  record.  It  strikes  every  one,  in  beginning  to  form 
an  acquaintance  with  the  treasures  of  Indian  literature,  that  a 
land  so  rich  in  intellectual  products,  and  those  of  the  profound- 
est  order  of  thought,  has  no  History ;  and  in  this  respect  con- 
trasts most  strongly  with  China — an  empire  possessing  one  so 
remarkable,  one  going  back  to  the  most  ancient  times.  India 
has  not  only  ancient  books  relating  to  religion,  and  splendid- 
poetical  productions,  but  also  ancient  codes ;  the  existence  of 
which  latter  kind  of  literature  has  been  mentioned  as  a  condi- 
tion necessary  to  the  origination  of  History — and  yet  History 


62  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

itself  is  not  found.  But  in  that  country  the  impulse  of  organiza- 
tion, in  beginning  to  develop  social  distinctions,  was  imme- 
diately petrified  in  the  merely  natural  classification  according 
to  castes;  so  that  although  the  laws  concern  themselves  with 
civil  rights,  they  make  even  these  dependent  on  natural  dis- 
tinctions ;  and  are  especially  occupied  with  determining  the 
relations  (Wrongs  rather  than  Rights)  of  those  classes  towards 
each  other,  i.e.  the  privileges  of  the  higher  over  the  lower.  Con- 
sequently, the  element  of  morality  is  banished  from  the  pomp 
of  Indian  life  and  from  its  political  institutions.  Where  that 
iron  bondage  of  distinctions  derived  from  nature  prevails,  the 
connection  of  society  is  nothing  but  wild  arbitrariness — tran- 
sient activity — or  rather  the  play  of  violent  emotion  without 
any  goal  of  advancement  or  development.  Therefore  no  intel- 
ligent reminiscence,  no  object  for  Mnemosyne  presents  itself; 
and  imagination — confused  though  profound — expatiates  in  a 
region,  which,  to  be  capable  of  History,  must  have  had  an  aim 
within  the  domain  of  Reality,  and,  at  the  same  time,  of  sub- 
stantial Freedom. 

Since  such  are  the  conditions  indispensable  to  a  history,  it 
has  happened  that  the  growth  of  Families  to  Clans,  of  Clans  to 
Peoples,  and  their  local  diffusion  consequent  upon  this  numer- 
ical increase — a  series  of  facts  which  itself  suggests  so  many 
instances  of  social  complication,  war,  revolution,  and  ruin — a 
process  which  is  so  rich  in  interest,  and  so  comprehensive  in 
extent — has  occurred  without  giving  rise  to  History ;  more- 
over, that  the  extension  and  organic  growth  of  the  empire  of 
articulate  sounds  has  itself  remained  voiceless  and  dumb — a 
stealthy,  unnoticed  advance.  It  is  a  fact  revealed  by  philo- 
logical monuments,  that  languages,  during  a  rude  condition  of 
the  nations  that  have  spoken  them,  have  been  very  highly  de- 
veloped ;  that  the  human  understanding  occupied  this  theoret- 
ical region  with  great  ingenuity  and  completeness.  For  Gram- 
mar, in  its  extended  and  consistent  form,  is  the  work  of  thought, 
which  makes  its  categories  distinctly  visible  therein.  It  is, 
moreover,  a  fact,  that  with  advancing  social  and  political  civili- 
zation, this  systematic  completeness  of  intelligence  suffers 
attrition,  and  language  thereupon  becomes  poorer  and  ruder: 
a  singular  phenomenon — that  the  progress  towards  a  more 
highly  intellectual  condition,  while  expanding  and  cultivating 
rationality,  should  disregard  that  intelligent  amplitude  and  ex- 


INTRODUCTION  63 

pressiveness — should  find  it  an  obstruction  and  contrive  to  do 
without  it.  Speech  is  the  act  of  theoretic  intelligence  in  a 
special  sense ;  it  is  its  external  manifestation.  Exercises  of 
memory  and  imagination  without  language,  are  direct,  [non- 
speculative]  manifestations.  But  this  act  of  theoretic  intelli- 
gence itself,  as  also  its  subsequent  development,  and  the  more 
concrete  class  of  facts  connected  with  it — viz.  the  spreading 
of  peoples  over  the  earth,  their  separation  from  each  other, 
their  comminglings  and  wanderings — remain  involved  in  the 
obscurity  of  a  voiceless  past.  They  are  not  acts  of  Will  becom- 
ing self-conscious — of  Freedom,  mirroring  itself  in  a  phenom- 
enal form,  and  creating  for  itself  a  proper  reality.  Not  par- 
taking of  this  element  of  substantial,  veritable  existence,  those 
nations — notwithstanding  the  development  of  language  among 
them — never  advanced  to  the  possession  of  a  history.  The  rapid 
growth  of  language,  and  the  progress  and  dispersion  of  Na- 
tions, assume  importance  and  interest  for  concrete  Reason, 
only  when  they  have  come  in  contact  with  States,  or  begin  to 
form  political  constitutions  themselves. 

After  these  remarks,  relating  to  the  form  of  the  commencement 
of  the  World's  History,  and  to  that  ante-historical  period  which 
must  be  excluded  from  it,  we  have  to  state  the  direction  of  its 
course :  though  here  only  formally.  The  further  definition  of 
the  subject  in  the  concrete  comes  under  the  head  of  arrange- 
ment. 

Universal  history — as  already  demonstrated — shows  the  de- 
velopment of  the  consciousness  of  Freedom  on  the  part  of 
Spirit,  and  of  the  consequent  realization  of  that  Freedom.  This 
development  implies  a  gradation — a  series  of  increasingly 
adequate  expressions  or  manifestations  of  Freedom,  which  re- 
sult from  its  Idea.  The  logical,  and — as  still  more  prominent 
— the  dialectical  nature  of  the  Idea  in  general,  viz.  that  it  is  self- 
determined — that  it  assumes  successive  forms  which  it  succes- 
sively transcends ;  and  by  this  very  process  of  transcending 
its  earlier  stages  gains  an  affirmative,  and,  in  fact,  a  richer  and 
more  concrete  shape; — this  necessity  of  its  nature,  and  the 
necessary  series  of  pure  abstract  forms  which  the  Idea  succes- 
sively assumes — is  exhibited  in  the  department  of  Logic.  Here 
we  need  adopt  only  one  of  its  results,  viz.  that  every  step  in  the 
process,  as  differing  from  any  other,  has  its  determinate  peculiar 
principle.    In  history  this  principle  is  idiosyncrasy  of  Spirit — 


64  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

peculiar  National  Genius.  It  is  within  the  limitations  of  this 
idiosyncrasy  that  the  spirit  of  the  nation,  concretely  manifested, 
expresses  every  aspect  of  its  consciousness  and  will — the  whole 
cycle  of  its  realization.  Its  religion,  its  polity,  its  ethics,  its 
legislation,  and  even  its  science,  art,  and  mechanical  skill,  all 
bear  its  stamp.  These  special  peculiarities  find  their  key  in 
that  common  peculiarity — the  particular  principle  that  charac- 
terizes a  people ;  as,  on  the  other  hand,  in  the  facts  which  His- 
tory presents  in  detail,  that  common  characteristic  principle 
may  be  detected.  That  such  or  such  a  specific  quality  consti- 
tutes the  peculiar  genius  of  a  people,  is  the  element  of  our  in- 
quiry which  must  be  derived  from  experience,  and  historically 
proved.  To  accomplish  this,  pre-supposes  not  only  a  disci- 
plined faculty  of  abstraction,  but  an  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  Idea.  The  investigator  must  be  familiar  a  priori  (if  we  like 
to  call  it  so),  with  the  whole  circle  of  conceptions  to  which  the 
principles  in  question  belong — just  as  Keppler  (to  name  the 
most  illustrious  example  in  this  mode  of  philosophizing)  must 
have  been  familiar  a  priori  with  ellipses,  with  cubes  and  squares, 
and  with  ideas  of  their  relations,  before  he  could  discover,  from 
the  empirical  data,  those  immortal  "  Laws  "  of  his,  which  are 
none  other  than  forms  of  thought  pertaining  to  those  classes  of 
conceptions.  He  who  is  unfamiliar  with  the  science  that  em- 
braces these  abstract  elementary  conceptions,  is  as  little  capable 
— though  he  may  have  gazed  on  the  firmament  and  the  mo- 
tions of  the  celestial  bodies  for  a  lifetime — of  understanding 
those  Laws,  as  of  discovering  them.  From  this  want  of  ac- 
quaintance with  the  ideas  that  relate  to  the  development  of 
Freedom,  proceed  a  part  of  those  objections  which  are  brought 
against  the  philosophical  consideration  of  a  science  usually  re- 
garded as  one  of  mere  experience ;  the  so-called  a,  priori  method, 
and  the  attempt  to  insinuate  ideas  into  the  empirical  data  of 
history,  being  the  chief  points  in  the  indictment.  Where  this 
deficiency  exists,  such  conceptions  appear  alien — not  lying 
within  the  object  of  investigation.  To  minds  whose  training 
has  been  narrow  and  merely  subjective — which  have  not  an 
acquaintance  and  familiarity  with  ideas — they  are  something 
strange — not  embraced  in  the  notion  and  conception  of  the 
subject  which  their  limited  intellect  forms.  Hence  the  state- 
ment that  Philosophy  does  not  understand  such  sciences.  It 
must,  indeed,  allow  that  it  has  not  that  kind  of  Understanding 


INTRODUCTION  65 

which  is  the  prevailing  one  in  the  domain  of  those  sciences, 
that  it  does  not  proceed  according  to  the  categories  of  such 
Understanding,  but  according  to  the  categories  of  Reason — 
though  at  the  same  time  recognizing  that  Understanding,  and 
its  true  value  and  position.  It  must  be  observed  that  in  this 
very  process  of  scientific  Understanding,  it  is  of  importance  that 
the  essential  should  be  distinguished  and  brought  into  relief 
in  contrast  with  the  so-called  non-essential.  But  in  order  to 
render  this  possible,  we  must  know  what  is  essential;  and  that  is 
— in  view  of  the  History  of  the  World  in  general — the  Con- 
sciousness of  Freedom,  and  the  phases  which  this  conscious- 
ness assumes  in  developing  itself.  The  bearing  of  historical 
facts  on  this  category,  is  their  bearing  on  the  truly  Essential. 
Of  the  difficulties  stated,  and  the  opposition  exhibited  to  com- 
prehensive conceptions  in  science,  part  must  be  referred  to  the 
inability  to  grasp  and  understand  Ideas.  If  in  Natural  History 
some  monstrous  hybrid  growth  is  alleged  as  an  objection  to 
the  recognition  of  clear  and  indubitable  classes  or  species,  a 
sufficient  reply  is  furnished  by  a  sentiment  often  vaguely  urged 
— that  "  the  exception  confirms  the  rule  " ;  i.e.  that  is  the  part 
of  a  well-defined  rule,  to  show  the  conditions  in  which  it  applies, 
or  the  deficiency  or  hybridism  of  cases  that  are  abnormal. 
Mere  Nature  is  too  weak  to  keep  its  genera  and  species  pure, 
when  conflicting  with  alien  elementary  influences.  If,  e.g.  on 
considering  the  human  organization  in  its  concrete  aspect,  we 
assert  that  brain,  heart,  and  so  forth  are  essential  to  its  organic 
life,  some  miserable  abortion  may  be  adduced,  which  has  on  the 
whole  the  human  form,  or  parts  of  it — which  has  been  conceived 
in  a  human  body  and  has  breathed  after  birth  therefrom — in 
which  nevertheless  no  brain  and  no  heart  is  found.  If  such  an 
instance  is  quoted  against  the  general  conception  of  a  human 
being — the  objector  persisting  in  using  the  name,  coupled  with 
a  superficial  idea  respecting  it — it  can  be  proved  that  a  real, 
concrete  human  being  is  a  truly  different  object ;  that  such  a 
being  must  have  a  brain  in  its  head,  and  a  heart  in  its  breast. 

A  similar  process  of  reasoning  is  adopted,  in  reference  to  the 
correct  assertion  that  genius,  talent,  moral  virtues,  and  senti- 
ments, and  piety,  may  be  found  in  every  zone,  under  all  political 
constitutions  and  conditions;  in  confirmation  of  which  ex- 
amples are  forthcoming  in  abundance.  If,  in  this  assertion, 
the  accompanying  distinctions  are  intended  to  be  repudiated 


66  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

as  unimportant  or  non-essential,  reflection  evidently  limits 
itself  to  abstract  categories ;  and  ignores  the  specialities  of  the 
object  in  question,  which  certainly  fall  under  no  principle 
recognized  by  such  categories.  That  intellectual  position  which 
adopts  such  merely  formal  points  of  view,  presents  a  vast  field 
for  ingenious  questions,  erudite  views,  and  striking  compari- 
sons; for  profound  seeming  reflections  and  declamations, 
which  may  be  rendered  so  much  the  more  brilliant  in  proportion 
as  the  subject  they  refer  to  is  indefinite,  and  are  susceptible  of 
new  and  varied  forms  in  inverse  proportion  to  the  importance 
of  the  results  that  can  be  gained  from  them,  and  the  certainty 
and  rationality  of  their  issues.  Under  such  an  aspect  the  well- 
known  Indian  Epopees  may  be  compared  with  the  Homeric ; 
perhaps — since  it  is  the  vastness  of  the  imagination  by  which 
poetical  genius  proves  itself — preferred  to  them ;  as,  on  ac- 
count of  the  similarity  of  single  strokes  of  imagination  in  the 
attributes  of  the  divinities,  it  has  been  contended  that  Greek 
mythological  forms  may  be  recognized  in  those  of  India. 
Similarly  the  Chinese  philosophy,  as  adopting  the  One  [to  «/] 
as  its  basis,  has  been  alleged  to  be  the  same  as  at  a  later  period 
appeared  as  Eleatic  philosophy  and  as  the  Spinozistic  System ; 
while  in  virtue  of  its  expressing  itself  also  in  abstract  numbers 
and  lines,  Pythagorean  and  Christian  principles  have  been  sup- 
posed to  be  detected  in  it.  Instances  of  bravery  and  indomit- 
able courage — traits  of  magnanimity,  of  self-denial,  and  self- 
sacrifice,  which  are  found  among  the  most  savage  and  the  most 
pusillanimous  nations — are  regarded  as  sufficient  to  support 
the  view  that  in  these  nations  as  much  of  social  virtue  and  moral- 
ity may  be  found  as  in  the  most  civilized  Christian  states,  or 
even  more.  And  on  this  ground  a  doubt  has  been  suggested 
whether  in  the  progress  of  history  and  of  general  culture  man- 
kind have  become  better ;  whether  their  morality  has  been  in- 
creased— morality  being  regarded  in  a  subjective  aspect  and 
view,  as  founded  on  what  the  agent  holds  to  be  right  and  wrong, 
good  and  evil ;  not  on  a  principle  which  is  considered  to  be  in 
and  for  itself  right  and  good,  or  a  crime  and  evil,  or  on  a  partic- 
ular religion  believed  to  be  the  true  one. 

We  may  fairly  decline  on  this  occasion  the  task  of  tracing  the 
formalism  and  error  of  such  a  view,  and  establishing  the  true 
principles  of  morality,  or  rather  of  social  virtue  in  opposition 
to  false  morality.     For  the  History  of  the  World  occupies  a 


INTRODUCTION  67 

higher  ground  than  that  on  which  morality  has  properly  its 
position;  which  is  personal  character — the  conscience  of  in- 
dividuals— their  particular  will  and  mode  of  action ;  these  have 
a  value,  imputation,  reward  or  punishment  proper  to  them- 
selves. What  the  absolute  aim  of  Spirit  requires  and  accom- 
plishes— what  Providence  does — transcends  the  obligations, 
and  the  liability  to  imputation  and  the  ascription  of  good  or  bad 
motives,  which  attach  to  individuality  in  virtue  of  its  social 
relations.  They  who  on  moral  grounds,  and  consequently 
with  noble  intention,  have  resisted  that  which  the  advance  of 
the  Spiritual  Idea  makes  necessary,  stand  higher  in  moral  worth 
than  those  whose  crimes  have  been  turned  into  the  means — 
under  the  direction  of  a  superior  principle — of  realizing  the 
purposes  of  that  principle.  But  in  such  revolutions  both  parties 
generally  stand  within  the  limits  of  the  same  circle  of  transient 
and  corruptible  existence.  Consequently  it  is  only  a  formal 
rectitude — deserted  by  the  living  Spirit  and  by  God — which 
those  who  stand  upon  ancient  right  and  order  maintain.  The 
deeds  of  great  men,  who  are  the  Individuals  of  the  World's 
History,  thus  appear  not  only  justified  in  view  of  that  intrinsic 
result  of  which  they  were  not  conscious,  but  also  from  the  point 
of  view  occupied  by  the  secular  moralist.  But  looked  at  from 
this  point,  moral  claims  that  are  irrelevant,  must  not  be  brought 
into  collision  with  world-historical  deeds  and  their  accomplish- 
ment. The  Litany  of  private  virtues — modesty,  humility, 
philanthropy  and  forbearance — must  not  be  raised  against 
them.  The  History  of  the  World  might,  on  principle,  entirely 
ignore  the  circle  within  which  morality  and  the  so  much  talked 
of  distinction  between  the  moral  and  the  politic  lies — not  only 
in  abstaining  from  judgments,  for  the  principles  involved,  and 
the  necessary  reference  of  the  deeds  in  question  to  those  prin- 
ciples, are  a  sufficient  judgment  of  them — but  in  leaving  In- 
dividuals quite  out  of  view  and  unmentioned.  What  it  has  to 
record  is  the  activity  of  the  Spirit  of  Peoples,  so  that  the  indi- 
vidual forms  which  that  spirit  has  assumed  in  the  sphere  of  out- 
ward reality,  might  be  left  to  the  delineation  of  special  histories. 
The  same  kind  of  formalism  avails  itself  in  its  peculiar  man- 
ner of  the  indefiniteness  attaching  to  genius,  poetry,  and  even 
philosophy ;  thinks  equally  that  it  finds  these  everywhere.  We 
have  here  products  of  reflective  thought ;  and  it  is  familiarity 
with  those  general  conceptions  which  single  out  and  name  real 


68  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

distinctions  without  fathoming  the  true  depth  of  the  matter- 
that  we  call  Culture.  It  is  something  merely  formal,  inasmuch 
as  it  aims  at  nothing  more  than  the  analysis  of  the  subject,  what- 
ever it  be,  into  its  constituent  parts,  and  the  comprehension  of 
these  in  their  logical  definitions  and  forms.  It  is  not  the  free 
universality  of  conception  necessary  for  making  an  abstract 
principle  the  object  of  consciousness.  Such  a  consciousness  of 
Thought  itself,  and  of  its  forms  isolated  from  a  particular  ob- 
ject, is  Philosophy.  This  has,  indeed,  the  condition  of  its  ex- 
istence in  culture ;  that  condition  being  the  taking  up  of  the  ob- 
ject of  thought,  and  at  the  same  time  clothing  it  with  the  form 
of  universality,  in  such  a  way  that  the  material  content  and  the 
form  given  by  the  intellect  are  held  in  an  inseparable  state ; — 
inseparable  to  such  a  degree  that  the  object  in  question — which, 
by  the  analysis  of  one  conception  into  a  multitude  of  concep- 
tions, is  enlarged  to  an  incalculable  treasure  of  thought — is  re- 
garded as  a  merely  empirical  datum  in  whose  formation  thought 
has  had  no  share. 

But  it  is  quite  as  much  an  act  of  Thought — of  the  Under- 
standing in  particular — to  embrace  in  one  simple  conception 
object  which  of  itself  comprehends  a  concrete  and  large  sig- 
nificance (as  Earth,  Man — Alexander  or  Caesar)  and  to  desig- 
nate it  by  one  word — as  to  resolve  such  a  conception — duly  to 
isolate  in  idea  the  conceptions  which  it  contains,  and  to  give 
them  particular  names.  And  in  reference  to  the  view  which 
gave  occasion  to  what  has  just  been  said,  thus  much  will  be 
clear — that  as  reflection  produces  what  we  include  under  the 
general  terms  Genius,  Talent,  Art,  Science — formal  culture 
on  every  grade  of  intellectual  development,  not  only  can,  but 
must  grow,  and  attain  a  mature  bloom,  while  the  grade  in 
question  is  developing  itself  to  a  State,  and  on  this  basis  of 
civilization  is  advancing  to  intelligent  reflection  and  to  gen- 
eral forms  of  thought — as  in  laws,  so  in  regard  to  all  else.  In 
the  very  association  of  men  in  a  state,  lies  the  necessity  of 
formal  culture — consequently  of  the  rise  of  the  sciences  and  of 
a  cultivated  poetry  and  art  generally.  The  arts  designated 
"  plastic,"  require  besides,  even  in  their  technical  aspect,  the 
civilized  association  of  men.  The  poetic  art — which  has  less 
need  of  external  requirements  and  means,  and  which  has  the 
element  of  immediate  existence,  the  voice,  as  its  material — steps 
forth  with  great  boldness  and  with  matured  expression,  even 


INTRODUCTION  69 

under  the  conditions  presented  by  a  people  not  yet  united  in  a 
political  combination ;  since,  as  remarked  above,  language  at- 
tains on  its  own  particular  ground  a  high  intellectual  develop- 
ment, prior  to  the  commencement  of  civilization. 

Philosophy  also  must  make  its  appearance  where  political 
life  exists ;  since  that  in  virtue  of  which  any  series  of  phenom- 
ena is  reduced  within  the  sphere  of  culture,  as  above  stated, 
is  the  Form  strictly  proper  to  Thought ;  and  thus  for  philoso- 
phy, which  is  nothing  other  than  the  consciousness  of  this  form 
itself — the  Thinking  of  Thinking — the  material  of  which  its 
edifice  is  to  be  constructed,  is  already  prepared  by  general  cul- 
ture. If  in  the  development  of  the  State  itself,  periods  are  neces- 
sitated which  impel  the  soul  of  nobler  natures  to  seek  refuge 
from  the  Present  in  ideal  regions — in  order  to  find  in  them  that 
harmony  with  itself  which  it  can  no  longer  enjoy  in  the  dis- 
cordant real  world,  where  the  reflective  intelligence  attacks  all 
that  is  holy  and  deep,  which  had  been  spontaneously  inwrought 
into  the  religion,  laws  and  manners  of  nations,  and  brings  them 
down  and  attenuates  them  to  abstract  godless  generalities — 
Thought  will  be  compelled  to  become  Thinking  Reason,  with 
the  view  of  effecting  in  its  own  element  the  restoration  of  its 
principles  from  the  ruin  to  which  they  had  been  brought. 

We  find  then,  it  is  true,  among  all  world-historical  peoples, 
poetry,  plastic  art,  science,  even  philosophy;  but  not  only  is 
there  a  diversity  in  style  and  bearing  generally,  but  still  more 
remarkably  in  subject-matter;  and  this  is  a  diversity  of  the 
most  important  kind,  affecting  the  rationality  of  that  subject- 
matter.  It  is  useless  for  a  pretentious  aesthetic  criticism  to  de- 
mand that  our  good  pleasure  should  not  be  made  the  rule  for 
the  matter — the  substantial  part  of  their  contents — and  to  main- 
tain that  it  is  the  beautiful  form  as  such,  the  grandeur  of  the 
fancy,  and  so  forth,  which  fine  art  aims  at,  and  which  must  be 
considered  and  enjoyed  by  a  liberal  taste  and  cultivated  mind. 
A  healthy  intellect  does  not  tolerate  such  abstractions,  and  can- 
not assimilate  productions  of  the  kind  above  referred  to. 
Granted  that  the  Indian  Epopees  might  be  placed  on  a  level 
with  the  Homeric,  on  account  of  a  number  of  those  qualities  of 
form — grandeur  of  invention  and  imaginative  power,  liveliness 
of  images  and  emotions,  and  beauty  of  diction ;  yet  the  infinite 
difference  of  matter  remains ;  consequently  one  of  substantial 
importance  and  involving  the  interest  of  Reason,  which  is  im- 


yo  PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 

mediately  concerned  with  the  consciousness  of  the  Idea  of  Free- 
dom, and  its  expression  in  individuals.  There  is  not  only  a 
classical  form,  but  a  classical  order  of  subject-matter ;  and  in  a 
work  of  art  form  and  subject-matter  are  so  closely  united  that 
the  former  can  only  be  classical  to  the  extent  ta,which  the  latter 
is  so.  With  a  fantastical,  indeterminate  material — and  Rule  is 
the  essence  of  Reason — the  form  becomes  measureless  and  form- 
less, or  mean  and  contracted.  In  the  same  way,  in  that  com- 
parison of  the  various  systems  of  philosophy  of  which  we  have 
already  spoken,  the  only  point  of  importance  is  overlooked, 
namely,  the  character  of  that  Unity  which  is  found  alike  in  the 
Chinese,  the  Eleatic,  and  the  Spinozistic  philosophy — the  dis- 
tinction between  the  recognition  of  that  Unity  as  abstract  and 
as  concrete — concrete  to  the  extent  of  being  a  unity  in  and  by 
itself — a  unity  synonymous  with  Spirit.  But  that  co-ordina- 
tion proves  that  it  recognizes  only  such  an  abstract  unity ;  so 
that  while  it  gives  judgment  respecting  philosophy,  it  is  ig- 
norant of  that  very  point  which  constitutes  the  interest  of 
philosophy. 

But  there  are  also  spheres  which,  amid  all  the  variety  that  is 
presented  in  the  substantial  content  of  a  particular  form  of 
culture,  remain  the  same.  The  difference  above-mentioned  in 
art,  science,  philosophy,  concerns  the  thinking  Reason  and 
Freedom,  which  is  the  self-consciousness  of  the  former,  and 
which  has  the  same  one  root  with  Thought.  As  it  is  not  the 
brute,  but  only  the  man  that  thinks,  he  only — and  only  because 
he  is  a  thinking  being — has  Freedom.  His  consciousness  im- 
ports this,  that  the  individual  comprehends  itself  as  a  person, 
that  is,  recognizes  itself  in  its  single  existence  as  possessing 
universality — as  capable  of  abstraction  from,  and  of  surren- 
dering all  speciality;  and,  therefore,  as  inherently  infinite. 
Consequently  those  spheres  of  intelligence  which  lie  beyond  the 
limits  of  this  consciousness  are  a  common  ground  among  those 
substantial  distinctions.  Even  morality,  which  is  so  intimately 
connected  with  the  consciousness  of  freedom,  can  be  very  pure 
while  that  consciousness  is  still  wanting ;  as  far,  that  is  to  say, 
as  it  expresses  duties  and  rights  only  as  objective  commands ; 
or  even  as  far  as  it  remains  satisfied  with  the  merely  formal  ele- 
vation of  the  soul — the  surrender  of  the  sensual,  and  of  all 
sensual  motives — in  a  purely  negative,  self-denying  fashion. 
The    Chinese   morality — since    Europeans    have   become   ac- 


INTRODUCTION  71 

quainted  with  it  and  with  the  writings  of  Confucius — has  ob- 
tained the  greatest  praise  and  proportionate  attention  from 
those  who  are  familiar  with  the  Christian  morality.  There  is  a 
similar  acknowledgment  of  the  sublimity  with  which  the  Indian 
religion  and  poetry,  (a  statement  that  must,  however,  be  limited 
to  the  higher  kind),  but  especially  the  Indian  philosophy,  ex- 
patiate upon  and  demand  the  removal  and  sacrifice  of  sensual- 
ity. Yet  both  these  nations  are,  it  must  be  confessed,  entirely 
wanting  in  the  essential  consciousness  of  the  Idea  of  Freedom. 
To  the  Chinese  their  moral  laws  are  just  like  natural  laws — 
external,  positive  commands — claims  established  by  force — 
compulsory  duties  or  rules  of  courtesy  towards  each  other. 
Freedom,  through  which  alone  the  essential  determinations  of 
Reason  become  moral  sentiments,  is  wanting.  Morality  is  a 
political  affair,  and  its  laws  are  administered  by  officers  of  gov- 
ernment and  legal  tribunals.  Their  treatises  upon  it,  (which 
are  not  law  books,  but  are  certainly  addressed  to  the  subjective 
will  and  individual  disposition)  read — as  do  the  moral  writings 
of  the  Stoics — like  a  string  of  commands  stated  as  necessary  for 
realizing  the  goal  of  happiness ;  so  that  it  seems  to  be  left  free  to 
men,  on  their  part,  to  adopt  such  commands — to  observe  them 
or  not ;  while  the  conception  of  an  abstract  subject,  "  a  wise 
man  "  [Sapiens]  forms  the  culminating  point  among  the  Chi- 
nese, as  also  among  the  Stoic  moralists.  Also  in  the  Indian  doc- 
trine of  the  renunciation  of  the  sensuality  of  desires  and  earthly 
interests,  positive  moral  freedom  is  not  the  object  and  end,  but 
the  annihilation  of  consciousness — spiritual  and  even  physical 
privation  of  life. 

It  is  the  concrete  spirit  of  a  people  which  we  have  distinctly 
to  recognize,  and  since  it  is  Spirit  it  can  only  be  comprehended 
spiritually,  that  is,  by  thought.  It  is  this  alone  which  takes  the 
lead  in  all  the  deeds  and  tendencies  of  that  people,  and  which 
is  occupied  in  realizing  itself — in  satisfying  its  ideal  and  becom- 
ing self-conscious — for  its  great  business  is  self-production. 
Butjor  spirit,  the  highest  attainment  is  self-knowledge;  an  ad- 
vance not  only  to  the  intuition,  but  to  the  thought— the  dear 
conception  of  itself.  This  it  must  and  is  also  destined  to  ac- 
complish ;  but  the  accomplishment  is  at  the  same  time  its  dis 
solution,  and  the  rise  of  another  spirit,  another  world-historical 
people,  another  epoch  of  Universal  History.  This  transition 
and  connection  lead  us  to  the  connection  of  the  whole — the 


72  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

idea  of  the  World's  History  as  such — which  we  have  now  to 
consider  more  closely,  and  of  which  we  have  to  give  a  represen- 
tation. 

History  in  general  is  therefore  the  development  of  Spirit  in 
Time,  as  Nature  is  the  development  of  the  Idea  in  Space. 

If  then  we  cast  a  glance  over  the  World's-History  generally, 
we  see  a  vast  picture  of  changes  and  transactions ;  of  infinitely 
manifold  forms  of  peoples,  states,  individuals,  in  unresting  suc- 
cession. Everything  that  can  enter  into  and  interest  the  soul 
of  man — all  our  sensibility  to  goodness,  beauty,  and  greatness 
— is  called  into  play.  On  every  hand  aims  are  adopted  and 
pursued,  which  we  recognize,  whose  accomplishment  we  desire 
— we  hope  and  fear  for  them.  In  all  these  occurrences  and 
changes  we  behold  human  action  and  suffering  predominant; 
everywhere  something  akin  to  ourselves,  and  therefore  every- 
where something  that  excites  our  interest  for  or  against.  Some- 
times it  attracts  us  by  beauty,  freedom,  and  rich  variety, 
sometimes  by  energy  such  as  enables  even  vice  to  make  itself  in- 
teresting. Sometimes  we  see  the  more  comprehensive  mass  of 
some  general  interest  advancing  with  comparative  slowness, 
and  subsequently  sacrificed  to  an  infinite  complication  of  trifling 
circumstances,  and  so  dissipated  into  atoms.  Then,  again,  with 
a  vast  expenditure  of  power  a  trivial  result  is  produced ;  while 
from  what  appears  unimportant  a  tremendous  issue  proceeds. 
On  every  hand  there  is  the  motliest  throng  of  events  drawing 
us  within  the  circle  of  its  interest,  and  when  one  combination 
vanishes  another  immediately  appears  in  its  place. 

The  general  thought — the  category  which  first  presents  itself 
in  this  restless  mutation  of  individuals  and  peoples,  existing  for 
a  time  and  then  vanishing — is  that  of  change  at  large.  The 
sight  of  the  ruins  of  some  ancient  sovereignty  directly  leads 
us  to  contemplate  this  thought  of  change  in  its  negative  aspect 
What  traveller  among  the  ruins  of  Carthage,  of  Palmyra,  Per- 
sepolis,  or  Rome,  has  not  been  stimulated  to  reflections  on  the 
transiency  of  kingdoms  and  men,  and  to  sadness  at  the  thought 
of  a  vigorous  and  rich  life  now  departed — a  sadness  which 
does  not  expend  itself  on  personal  losses  and  the  uncertainty 
of  one's  own  undertakings,  but  is  a  disinterested  sorrow  at  the 
decay  of  a  splendid  and  highly  cultured  national  life !  But  the 
next  consideration  which  allies  itself  with  that  of  change,  is, 
that  change  while  it  imports  dissolution,  involves  at  the  same 


INTRODUCTION  73 

time  the  rise  of  a  new  life — that  while  death  is  the  issue  of  life, 
life  is  also  the  issue  of  death.  This  is  a  grand  conception;  one 
which  the  Oriental  thinkers  attained,  and  which  is  perhaps  the 
highest  in  their  metaphysics.  In  the  idea  of  Metempsychosis 
we  find  it  evolved  in  its  relation  to  individual  existence;  but 
a  myth  more  generally  known,  is  that  of  the  Phoenix  as  a  type 
of  the  Life  of  Nature;  eternally  preparing  for  itself  its  funeral 
pile,  and  consuming  itself  upon  it ;  but  so  that  from  its  ashes 
is  produced  the  new,  renovated,  fresh  life.  But  this  image  is 
only  Asiatic;  oriental  not  occidental.  Spirit — consuming  the 
envelope  of  its  existence — does  not  merely  pass  into  another 
envelope,  nor  rise  rejuvenescent  from  the  ashes  of  its  previous 
form;  it  comes  forth  exalted,  glorified,  a  purer  spirit.  It  cer- 
tainly makes  war  upon  itself — consumes  its  own  existence ;  but 
in  this  very  destruction  it  works  up  that  existence  into  a  new 
form,  and  each  successive  phase  becomes  in  its  turn  a  material, 
working  on  which  it  exalts  itself  to  a  new  grade. 

If  we  consider  Spirit  in  this  aspect — regarding  its  changes 
not  merely  as  rejuvenescent  transitions,  i.e.,  returns  to  the  same 
form,  but  rather  as  manipulations  of  itself,  by  which  it  multi- 
plies the  material  for  future  endeavors — we  see  it  exerting  itself 
in  a  variety  of  modes  and  directions;  developing  its  powers 
and  gratifying  its  desires  in  a  variety  which  is  inexhaustible; 
because  every  one  of  its  creations,  in  which  it  has  already  found 
gratification,  meets  it  anew  as  material,  and  is  a  new  stimulus 
to  plastic  activity.  The  abstract  conception  of  mere  change 
gives  place  to  the  thought  of  Spirit  manifesting,  developing, 
and  perfecting  its  powers  in  every  direction  which  its  manifold 
nature  can  follow.  What  pbwers  it  inherently  possesses  we 
learn  from  the  variety  of  products  and  formations  which  it 
originates.  In  this  pleasurable  activity,  it  has  to  do  only  with 
itself.  As  involved  with  the  conditions  of  mere  nature — in- 
ternal and  external— it  will  indeed  meet  in  these  not  only  oppo- 
sition and  hindrance,  but  will  often  see  its  endeavors  thereby 
fail;  often  sink  under  the  complications  in  which  it  is  entan- 
gled either  by  Nature  or  by  itself.  But  in  such  case  it  perishes 
in  fulfilling  its  own  destiny  and  proper  function,  and  even  thus 
exhibits  the  spectacle  of  self-demonstration  as  spiritual  activity. 

The  very  essence  of  Spirit  is  activity;  it  realizes  its  poten- 
tiality— makes  itself  its  own  deed,  its  own  work — and  thus  it 
becomes  an  object  to  itself ;  contemplates  itself  as  an  objective 


74  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

existence.  Thus  is  it  with  the  Spirit  of  a  people :  it  is  a  Spirit 
having  strictly  denned  characteristics,  which  erects  itself  into 
an  objective  world,  that  exists  and  persists  in  a  particular  re- 
ligious form  of  worship,  customs,  constitution,  and  political 
laws — in  the  whole  complex  of  its  institutions — in  the  events 
and  transactions  that  make  up  its  history.  That  is  its  work — 
that  is  what  this  particular  Nation  is.  Nations  are  what  their 
deeds  are.  Every  Englishman  will  say:  We  are  the  men 
who  navigate  the  ocean,  and  have  the  commerce  of  the  world ; 
to  whom  the  East  Indies  belong  and  their  riches;  who  have 
a  parliament,  juries,  etc. — The  relation  of  the  individual  to 
that  Spirit  is  that  he  appropriates  to  himself  this  substantial 
existence ;  that  it  becomes  his  character  and  capability,  enabling 
him  to  have  a  definite  place  in  the  world — to  be  something. 
For  he  finds  the  being  of  the  people  to  which  he  belongs  an  al- 
ready established,  firm  world — objectively  present  to  him — with 
which  he  has  to  incorporate  himself.  In  this  its  work,  there- 
fore^— its  world — the  Spirit  of  the  people  enjoys  its  existence 
and  finds  its  satisfaction. — A  Nation  is  moral — virtuous — vig- 
orous— while  it  is  engaged  in  realizing  its  grand  objects,  and 
defends  its  work  against  external  violence  during  the  process 
of  giving  to  its  purposes  an  objective  existence.  The  contra- 
diction between  its  potential,  subjective  being — its  inner  aim 
and  life — and  its  actual  being  is  removed ;  it  has  attained  full 
reality,  has  itself  objectively  present  to  it.  But  this  having 
been  attained,  the  activity  displayed  by  the  Spirit  of  the  people 
in  question  is  no  longer  needed ;  it  has  its  desire.  The  Nation 
can  still  accomplish  much  in  war  and  peace  at  home  and  abroad ; 
but  the  living  substantial  soul  itself  may  be  said  to  have  ceased 
its  activity.  The  essential,  supreme  interest  has  consequently 
vanished  from  its  life,  for  interest  is  present  only  where  there 
is  opposition.  The  nation  lives  the  same  kind  of  life  as  the 
individual  when  passing  from  maturity  to  old  age — in  the 
enjoyment  of  itself — in  the  satisfaction  of  being  exactly  what 
it  desired  and  was  able  to  attain.  Although  its  imagination 
might  have  transcended  that  limit,  it  nevertheless  abandoned 
any  such  aspirations  as  objects  of  actual  endeavor,  if  the  real 
world  was  less  than  favorable  to  their  attainment — and  re- 
stricted its  aim  by  the  conditions  thus  imposed.  This  mere 
customary  life  (the  watch  wound  up  and  going  on  of  itself)  is 
that  which  brings  on  natural  death.    Custom  is  activity  with- 


INTRODUCTION  75 

out  opposition,  for  which  there  remains  only  a  formal  dura- 
tion;  in  which  the  fulness  and  zest  that  originally  character- 
ized the  aim  of  life  are  out  of  the  question — a  merely  external 
sensuous  existence  which  has  ceased  to  throw  itself  enthusi- 
astically into  its  object.  Thus  perish  individuals,  thus  perish 
peoples  by  a  natural  death;  and  though  the  latter  may  con- 
tinue in  being,  it  is  an  existence  without  intellect  or  vitality; 
having  no  need  of  its  institutions,  because  the  need  for  them 
is  satisfied — a  political  nullity  and  tedium.  In  order  that  a 
truly  universal  interest  may  arise,  the  Spirit  of  a  People  must 
advance  to  the  adoption  of  some  new  purpose;  but  whence 
can  this  new  purpose  originate?  It  would  be  a  higher,  more 
comprehensive  conception  of  itself — a  transcending  of  its  prin- 
ciple— but  this  very  act  would  involve  a  principle  of  a  new 
order,  a  new  National  Spirit. 

Such  a  new  principle  does  in  fact  enter  into  the  Spirit  of 
a  people  that  has  arrived  at  full  development  and  self-realiza- 
tion; it  dies  not  a  simply  natural  death — for  it  is  not  a  mere 
single  individual,  but  a  spiritual,  generic  life;  in  its  case  nat- 
ural death  appears  to  imply  destruction  through  its  own  agency. 
The  reason  of  this  difference  from  the  single  natural  individual, 
is  that  the  Spirit  of  a  people  exists  as  a  genus,  and  consequently 
carries  within  it  its  own  negation,  in  the  very  generality  which 
characterizes  it.  A  people  can  only  die  a  violent  death  when 
it  has  become  naturally  dead  in  itself,  as,  e.g.,  the  German  Im- 
perial Cities,  the  German  Imperial  Constitution. 

It  is  not  of  the  nature  of  the  all-pervading  Spirit  to  die  this 
merely  natural  death;  it  does  not  simply  sink  into  the  senile 
life  of  mere  custom,  but — as  being  a  National  Spirit  belonging 
to  Universal  History — attains  to  the  consciousness  of  what 
its  work  is;  it  attains  to  a  conception  of  itself.  In  fact  it  is 
world-historical  only  in  so  far  as  a  universal  principle  has  lain; 
in  its  fundamental  element — in  its  grand  aim:  only  so  far  is 
the  work  which  such  a  spirit  produces,  a  moral,  political  or- 
ganization. If  it  be  mere  desires  that  impel  nations  to  activity, 
such  deeds  pass  over  without  leaving  a  trace;  or  their  traces 
are  only  ruin  and  destruction.  Thus,  it  was  first  Chronos — 
Time — that  ruled;  the  Golden  Age,  without  moral  products; 
and  what  was  produced — the  offspring  of  that  Chronos — was 
devoured  by  it.  It  was  Jupiter — from  whose  head  Minerva 
sprang,  and  to  whose  circle  of  divinities  belong  Apollo  and 


76  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

the  Muses — that  first  put  a  constraint  upon  Time,  and  set  a 
bound  to  its  principle  of  decadence.  He  is  the  Political  god, 
who  produced  a  moral  work — the  State. 

In  the  very  element  of  an  achievement  the  quality  of  gen- 
erality, of  thought,  is  contained;  without  thought  it  has  no 
objectivity;  that  is  its  basis.  The  highest  point  in  the  devel- 
opment of  a  people  is  this — to  have  gained  a  conception  of  its 
life  and  condition — to  have  reduced  its  laws,  its  ideas  of  justice 
and  morality  to  a  science;  for  in  this  unity  [of  the  objective 
and  subjective]  lies  the  most  intimate  unity  that  Spirit  can 
attain  to  in  and  with  itself.  In  its  work  it  is  employed  in  ren- 
dering itself  an  object  of  its  own  contemplation;  but  it  cannot 
develop  itself  objectively  in  its  essential  nature,  except  in  think- 
ing itself. 

At  this  point,  then,  Spirit  is  acquainted  with  its  principles — 
the  general  character  of  its  acts.  But  at  the  same  time,  in 
virtue  of  its  very  generality,  this  work  of  thought  is  different 
in  point  of  form  from  the  actual  achievements  of  the  national 
genius,  and  from  the  vital  agency  by  which  those  achievements 
have  been  performed.  We  have  then  before  us  a  real  and  an 
ideal  existence  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Nation.  If  we  wish  to  gain 
the  general  idea  and  conception  of  what  the  Greeks  were,  we 
find  it  in  Sophocles  and  Aristophanes,  in  Thucydides  and  Plato. 
In  these  individuals  the  Greek  spirit  conceived  and  thought 
itself.  This  is  the  profounder  kind  of  satisfaction  which  the 
Spirit  of  a  people  attains ;  but  it  is  "  ideal,"  and  distinct  from 
its  "  real  "  activity. 

At  such  a  time,  therefore,  we  are  sure  to  see  a  people  finding 
satisfaction  in  the  idea  of  virtue ;  putting  talk  about  virtue 
partly  side  by  side  with  actual  virtue,  but  partly  in  the  place 
of  it.  On  the  other  hand  pure,  universal  thought,  since  its 
nature  is  universality,  is  apt  to  bring  the  Special  and  Spontane- 
ous— Belief,  Trust,  Customary  Morality — to  reflect  upon  itself, 
and  its  primitive  simplicity ;  to  show  up  the  limitation  with 
which  it  is  fettered — partly  suggesting  reasons  for  renouncing 
duties,  partly  itself  demanding  reasons,  and  the  connection  of 
such  requirements  with  Universal  Thought ;  and  not  finding 
that  connection,  seeking  to  impeach  the  authority  of  duty  gen- 
erally, as  destitute  of  a  sound  foundation. 

At  the  same  time  the  isolation  of  individuals  from  each  other 
and  from  the  Whole  makes  its  appearance;   their  aggressive 


INTRODUCTION  77 

selfishness  and  vanity;  their  seeking  personal  advantage  and 
consulting  this  at  the  expense  of  the  State  at  large.  That  in- 
ward principle  in  transcending  its  outward  manifestations  is 
subjective  also  in  form — viz.,  selfishness  and  corruption  in  the 
unbound  passions  and  egotistic  interests  of  men. 

Zeus,  therefore,  who  is  represented  as  having  put  a  limit 
to  the  devouring  agency  of  Time,  and  stayed  this  transiency  by 
having  established  something  inherently  and  independently 
durable — Zeus  and  his  race  are  themselves  swallowed  up,  and 
that  by  the  very  power  that  produced  them — the  principle  of 
thought,  perception,  reasoning,  insight  derived  from  rational 
grounds,  and  the  requirement  of  such  grounds. 

Time  is  the  negative  element  in  the  sensuous  world.  Thought 
is  the  same  negativity,  but  it  is  the  deepest,  the  infinite  form 
of  it,  in  which  therefore  all  existence  generally  is  dissolved; 
first  Unite  existence — determinate,  limited  form :  but  existence 
generally,  in  its  objective  character,  is  limited ;  it  appears  there- 
fore as  a  mere  datum — something  immediate — authority; — 
and  is  either  intrinsically  finite  and  limited,  or  presents  itself 
as  a  limit  for  the  thinking  subject,  and  its  infinite  reflection 
on  itself  [unlimited  abstraction]. 

But  first  we  must  observe  how  the  life  which  proceeds  from 
death,  is  itself,  on  the  other  hand,  only  individual  life;  so 
that,  regarding  the  species  as  the  real  and  substantial  in  this 
vicissitude,  the  perishing  of  the  individual  is  a  regress  of  the 
species  into  individuality.  The  perpetuation  of  the  race  is, 
therefore,  none  other  than  the  monotonous  repetition  of  the 
same  kind  of  existence.  Further,  we  must  remark  how  per- 
ception— the  comprehension  of  being  by  thought — is  the  source 
and  birthplace  of  a  new,  and  in  fact  higher  form,  in  a  principle 
which  while  it  preserves,  dignifies  its  material.  For  Thought 
is  that  Universal — that  Species  which  is  immortal,  which  pre- 
serves identity  with  itself.  The  particular  form  of  Spirit  not 
merely  passes  away  in  the  world  by  natural  causes  in  Time, 
but  is  annulled  in  the  automatic  self-mirroring  activity  of  con- 
sciousness. Because  this  annulling  is  an  activity  of  Thought, 
it  is  at  the  same  time  conservative  and  elevating  in  its  opera- 
tion. While  then,  on  the  one  side,  Spirit  annuls  the  reality,  the 
permanence  of  that  which  it  is,  it  gains  on  the  other  side,  the 
essence,  the  Thought,  the  Universal  element  of  that  which  it 
Only  was  [its  transient  conditions].    Its  principle  is  no  longer 


78  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

that  immediate  import  and  aim  which  it  was  previously,  but 
the  essence  of  that  import  and  aim. 

The  result  of  this  process  is  then  that  Spirit,  in  rendering 
itself  objective  and  making  this  its  being  an  object  of  thought, 
on  the  one  hand  destroys  the  determinate  form  of  its  being, 
on  the  other  hand  gains  a  comprehension  of  the  universal  ele- 
ment which  it  involves,  and  thereby  gives  a  new  form  to  its 
inherent  principle.  In  virtue  of  this,  the  substantial  character 
of  the  National  Spirit  has  been  altered — that  is,  its  principle 
has  risen  into  another,  and  in  fact  a  higher  principle. 

It  is  of  the  highest  importance  in  apprehending  and  com- 
prehending History  to  have  and  to  understand  the  thought 
involved  in  this  transition.  The  individual  traverses  as  a  unity 
various  grades  of  development,  and  remains  the  same  indi- 
vidual ;  in  like  manner  also  does  a  people,  till  the  Spirit  which 
it  embodies  reaches  the  grade  of  universality.  In  this  point 
lies  the  fundamental,  the  Ideal  necessity  of  transition.  This 
is  the  soul — the  essential  consideration — of  the  philosophical 
comprehension  of  History. 

Spirit  is  essentially  the  result  of  its  own  activity :  its  activity 
is  the  transcending  of  immediate,  simple,  unreflected  existence 
— the  negation  of  that  existence,  and  the  returning  into  itself. 
We  may  compare  it  with  the  seed ;  for  with  this  the  plant  be- 
gins, yet  it  is  also  the  result  of  the  plant's  entire  life.  But 
the  weak  side  of  life  is  exhibited  in  the  fact  that  the  commence- 
ment and  the  result  are  disjoined  from  each  other.  Thus  also 
is  it  in  the  life  of  individuals  and  peoples.  The  life  of  a  people 
ripens  a  certain  fruit ;  its  activity  aims  at  the  complete  mani- 
festation of  the  principle  which  it  embodies.  But  this  fruit  does 
not  fall  back  into  the  bosom  of  the  people  that  produced  and 
matured  it ;  on  the  contrary,  it  becomes  a  poison-draught  to  it. 
That  poison-draught  it  cannot  let  alone,  for  it  has  an  insatiable 
thirst  for  it :  the  taste  of  the  draught  is  its  annihilation,  though 
at  the  same  time  the  rise  of  a  new  principle. 

We  have  already  discussed  the  final  aim  of  this  progression. 
The  principles  of  the  successive  phases  of  Spirit  that  animate 
the  Nations  in  a  necessitated  gradation,  are  themselves  only 
steps  in  the  development  of  the  one  universal  Spirit,  which 
through  them  elevates  and  completes  itself  to  a  self-compre- 
hending totality. 

While  we  are  thus  concerned  exclusively  with  the  Idea  of 


INTRODUCTION  79 

Spirit,  and  in  the  History  of  the  World  regard  everything 
as  only  its  manifestation,  we  have,  in  traversing  the  past — 
however  extensive  its  periods — only  to  do  with  what  is  present; 
for  philosophy,  as  occupying  itself  with  the  True,  has  to  do 
with  the  eternally  present.  Nothing  in  the  past  is  lost  for  it, 
for  the  Idea  is  ever  present ;  Spirit  is  immortal ;  with  it  there 
is  no  past,  no  future,  but  an  essential  now.  This  necessarily 
implies  that  the  present  form  of  Spirit  comprehends  within 
it  all  earlier  steps.  These  have  indeed  unfolded  themselves 
in  succession  independently;  but  what  Spirit  is  it  has  always 
been  essentially;  distinctions  are  only  the  development  of  this 
essential  nature.  The  life  of  the  ever  present  Spirit  is  a  circle 
of  progressive  embodiments,  which  looked  at  in  one  aspect 
still  exist  beside  each  other,  and  only  as  looked  at  from  another 
point  of  view  appear  as  past.  The  grades  which  Spirit  seems 
to  have  left  behind  it,  it  still  possesses  in  the  depths  of  its 
present. 

GEOGRAPHICAL  BASIS  OF  HISTORY 

Contrasted  with  the  universality  of  the  moral  Whole  and 
with  the  unity  of  that  individuality  which  is  its  active  prin- 
ciple, the  natural  connection  that  helps  to  produce  the  Spirit 
of  a  People,  appears  an  extrinsic  element;  but  inasmuch  as 
we  must  regard  it  as  the  ground  on  which  that  Spirit  plays 
its  part,  it  is  an  essential  and  necessary  basis.  We  began  with 
the  assertion  that,  in  the  History  of  the  World,  the  Idea  of 
Spirit  appears  in  its  actual  embodiment  as  a  series  of  external 
forms,  each  one  of  which  declares  itself  as  an  actually  existing 
people.  This  existence  falls  under  the  category  of  Time  as 
well  as  Space,  in  the  way  of  natural  existence ;  and  the  special 
principle,  which  every  world-historical  people  embodies,  has 
this  principle  at  the  same  time  as  a  natural  characteristic.  Spirit, 
clothing  itself  in  this  form  of  nature,  suffers  its  particular 
phases  to  assume  separate  existence;  for  mutual  exclusion 
is  the  mode  of  existence  proper  to  mere  nature.  These  natural 
distinctions  must  be  first  of  all  regarded  as  special  possibilities, 
from  which  the  Spirit  of  the  people  in  question  germinates, 
and  among  them  is  the  Geographical  Basis.  It  is  not  our  con- 
cern to  become  acquainted  with  the  land  occupied  by  nations 
as  an  external  locale,  but  with  the  natural  type  of  the  locality, 


So  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

as  intimately  connected  with  the  type  and  character  of  the 
people  which  is  the  offspring  of  such  a  soil.  This  character 
is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  mode  and  form  in  which 
nations  make  their  appearance  in  History,  and  take  place  and 
position  in  it.  Nature  should  not  be  rated  too  high  nor  too  low : 
the  mild  Ionic  sky  certainly  contributed  much  to  the  charm  of 
the  Homeric  poems,  yet  this  alone  can  produce  no  Homers. 
Nor  in  fact  does  it  continue  to  produce  them;  under  Turkish 
government  no  bards  have  arisen.  We  must  first  take  notice 
of  those  natural  conditions  which  have  to  be  excluded  once 
for  all  from  the  drama  of  the  World's  History.  In  the  Frigid 
and  in  the  Torrid  zone  the  locality  of  World-historical  peoples 
cannot  be  found.  For  awakening  consciousness  takes  its  rise 
surrounded  by  natural  influences  alone,  and  every  development 
of  it  is  the  reflection  of  Spirit  back  upon  itself  in  opposition 
to  the  immediate,  unreflected  character  of  mere  nature.  Nat- 
ure is  therefore  one  element  in  this  antithetic  abstracting  proc- 
ess; Nature  is  the  first  standpoint  from  which  man  can  gain 
freedom  within  himself,  and  this  liberation  must  not  be  ren- 
dered difficult  by  natural  obstructions.  Nature,  as  contrasted 
with  Spirit,  is  a  quantitative  mass,  whose  power  must  not  be 
so  great  as  to  make  its  single  force  omnipotent.  In  the  ex- 
treme zones  man  cannot  come  to  free  movement;  cold  and 
heat  are  here  too  powerful  to  allow  Spirit  to  build  up  a  world 
for  itself.  Aristotle  said  long  ago,  "  When  pressing  needs  are 
satisfied,  man  turns  to  the  general  and  more  elevated."  But 
in  the  extreme  zones  such  pressure  may  be  said  never  to  cease, 
never  to  be  warded  off ;  men  are  constantly  impelled  to  direct 
attention  to  nature,  to  the  glowing  rays  of  the  sun,  and  the  icy 
frost.  The  true  theatre  of  History  is  therefore  the  temperate 
zone ;  or,  rather,  its  northern  half,  because  the  earth  there  pre- 
sents itself  in  a  continental  form,  and  has  a  broad  breast,  as  the 
Greeks  say.  In  the  south,  on  the  contrary,  it  divides  itself,  and 
runs  out  into  many  points.  The  same  peculiarity  shows  itself 
in  natural  products.  The  north  has  many  kinds  of  animals 
and  plants  with  common  characteristics;  in  the  south,  where 
the  land  divides  itself  into  points,  natural  forms  also  present 
individual  features  contrasted  with  each  other. 

The  World  is  divided  into  Old  and  Neiv;  the  name  of  New 
having  originated  in  the  fact  that  America  and  Australia  have 
only  lately  become  known  to  us.    But  these  parts  of  the  world 


INTRODUCTION  ■  81 

are  not  only  relatively  new,  but  intrinsically  so  in  respect  of 
their  entire  physical  and  psychical  constitution.  Their  geo- 
logical antiquity  we  have  nothing  to  do  with.  I  will  not  deny 
the  New  World  the  honor  of  having  emerged  from  the  sea 
at  the  world's  formation  contemporaneously  with  the  old:  yet 
the  Archipelago  between  South  America  and  Asia  shows  a 
physical  immaturity.  The  greater  part  of  the  islands  are  so 
constituted,  that  they  are,  as  it  were,  only  a  superficial  deposit 
of  earth  over  rocks,  which  shoot  up  from  the  fathomless  deep, 
and  bear  the  character  of  novel  origination.  New  Holland 
shows  a  not  less  immature  geographical  character ;  for  in  pene- 
trating from  the  settlements  of  the  English  farther  into  the 
country,  we  discover  immense  streams,  which  have  not  yet 
developed  themselves  to  such  a  degree  as  to  dig  a  channel  for 
themselves,  but  lose  themselves  in  marshes.  Of  America  and 
its  grade  of  civilization,  especially  in  Mexico  and  Peru,  we 
have  information,  but  it  imports  nothing  more  than  that  this 
culture  was  an  entirely  national  one,  which  must  expire  as  soon 
as  Spirit  approached  it.  America  has  always  shown  itself 
physically  and  psychically  powerless,  and  still  shows  itself  so. 
For  the  aborigines,  after  the  landing  of  the  Europeans  in 
America,  gradually  vanished  at  the  breath  of  European  activ- 
ity. In  the  United  States  of  North  America  all  the  citizens 
are  of  European  descent,  with  whom  the  old  inhabitants  could 
not  amalgamate,  but  were  driven  back.  The  aborigines  have 
certainly  adopted  some  arts  and  usages  from  the  Europeans, 
among  others  that  of  brandy-drinking,  which  has  operated  with 
deadly  effect.  In  the  South  the  natives  were  treated  with  much 
greater  violence,  and  employed  in  hard  labors  to  which  their 
strength  was  by  no  means  competent.  A  mild  and  passionless 
disposition,  want  of  spirit,  and  a  crouching  submissiveness  tow- 
ards a  Creole,  and  still  more  towards  a  European,  are  the 
chief  characteristics  of  the  native  Americans ;  and  it  will  be 
long  before  the  Europeans  succeed  in  producing  any  inde- 
pendence of  feeling  in  them.  The  inferiority  of  these  individ- 
uals in  all  respects,  even  in  regard  to  size,  is  very  manifest; 
only  the  quite  southern  races  in  Patagonia  are  more  vigorous 
natures,  but  still  abiding  in  their  natural  condition  of  rudeness 
and  barbarism.  When  the  Jesuits  and  the  Catholic  clergy  pro- 
posed to  accustom  the  Indians  to  European  culture  and  man- 
ners (they  have,  as  is  well  known,  founded  a  state  in  Paraguay 


82  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY! 

and  convents  in  Mexico  and  California),  they  commenced  a 
close  intimacy  with  them,  and  prescribed  for  them  the  duties 
of  the  day,  which,  slothful  though  their  disposition  was,  they 
complied  with  under  the  authority  of  the1  Friars.  These  pre- 
scripts (at  midnight  a  bell  had  to  remind  them  even  of  their 
matrimonial  duties),  were  first,  and  very  wisely,  directed  to 
the  creation  of  wants — the  springs  of  human  activity  generally. 
The  weakness  of  the  American  physique  was  a  chief  reason 
for  bringing  the  negroes  to  America,  to  employ  their  labor  in 
the  work  that  had  to  be  done  in  the  New  World ;  for  the  ne- 
groes are  far  more  susceptible  of  European  culture  than  the 
Indians,  and  an  English  traveller  has  adduced  instances  of 
negroes  having  become  competent  clergymen,  medical  men, 
etc.  (a  negro  first  discovered  the  use  of  the  Peruvian  bark), 
while  only  a  single  native  was  known  to  him  whose  intellect 
was  sufficiently  developed  to  enable  him  to  study,  but  who  had 
died  soon  after  beginning,  through  excessive  brandy-drinking. 
The  weakness  of  the  human  physique  of  America  has  been 
aggravated  by  a  deficiency  in  the  mere  tools  and  appliances  of 
progress — the  want  of  horses  and  iron,  the  chief  instruments 
by  which  they  were  subdued. 

The  original  nation  having  vanished  or  nearly  so,  the  effec- 
tive population  comes  for  the  most  part  from  Europe;  and 
what  takes  place  in  America,  is  but  an  emanation  from  Europe. 
Europe  has  sent  its  surplus  population  to  America  in  much 
the  same  way  as  from  the  old  Imperial  Cities,  where  trade- 
guilds  were  dominant  and  trade  was  stereotyped,  many  persons 
escaped  to  other  towns  which  were  not  under  such  a  yoke,  and 
where  the  burden  of  imposts  was  not  so  heavy.  Thus  arose,  by 
the  side  of  Hamburg,  Altona — by  Frankfort,  Offenbach — by 
Niirnburg,  Fiirth — and  Carouge  by  Geneva.  The  relation  be- 
tween North  America  and  Europe  is  sinilar.  Many  English- 
men have  settled  there,  where  burdens  and  imposts  do  not 
exist,  and  where  the  combination  of  European  appliances  and 
European  ingenuity  has  availed  to  realize  some  produce  from 
the  extensive  and  still  virgin  soil.  Indeed  the  emigration  in 
question  offers  many  advantages.  The  emigrants  have  got 
rid  of  much  that  might  be  obstructive  to  their  interests  at  home, 
while  they  take  with  them  the  advantages  of  European  inde- 
pendence of  spirit,  and  acquired  skill ;  while  for  those  who  are 
willing  to  work  vigorously,  but  who  have  not  found  in  Europe 


INTRODUCTION  83 

opportunities  for  doing  so,  a  sphere  of  action  is  certainly  pre- 
sented in  America, 

America,  as  is  well  known,  is  divided  into  two  parts,  con- 
nected indeed  by  an  isthmus,  but  which  has  not  been  the  means 
of  establishing  intercourse  between  them.  Rather,  these  two 
divisions  are  most  decidedly  distinct  from  each  other.  North 
America  shows  us  on  approaching  it,  along  its  eastern  shore 
a  wide  border  of  level  coast,  behind  which  is  stretched  a  chain 
of  mountains — the  blue  mountains  or  Appalachians;  further 
north  the  Alleghanies.  Streams  issuing  from  them  water  the 
country  towards  the  coast,  which  affords  advantages  of  the 
most  desirable  kind  to  the  United  States,  whose  origin  belongs 
to  this  region.  Behind  that  mountain-chain  the  St.  Lawrence 
river  flows  (in  connection  with  huge  lakes),  from  south  to 
north,  and  on  this  river  lie  the  northern  colonies  of  Canada. 
Farther  west  we  meet  the  basin  of  the  vast  Mississippi,  and 
the  basins  of  the  Missouri  and  Ohio,  which  it  receives,  and 
then  debouches  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  On  the  western  side 
of  this  region  we  have  in  like  manner  a  long  mountain  chain, 
running  through  Mexico  and  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  and 
under  the  names  of  the  Andes  or  Cordillera,  cutting  off  an  edge 
of  coast  along  the  whole  west  side  of  South  America.  The 
border  formed  by  this  is  narrower  and  offers  fewer  advantages 
than  that  of  North  America.  There  lie  Peru  and  Chili.  On 
the  east  side  flow  eastward  the  monstrous  streams  of  the  Ori- 
noco and  Amazons ;  they  form  great  valleys,  not  adapted  how- 
ever for  cultivation,  since  they  are  only  wide  desert  steppes. 
Towards  the  south  flows  the  Rio  de  la  Plata,  whose  tributaries 
have  their  origin  partly  in  the  Cordilleras,  partly  in  the  northern 
chain  of  mountains  which  separates  the  basin  of  the  Amazon 
from  its  own.  To  the  district  of  the  Rio  de  la  Plata  belong 
Brazil,  and  the  Spanish  Republics.  Colombia  is  the  northern 
coast-land  of  South  America,  at  the  west  of  which,  flowing 
along  the  Andes,  the  Magdalena  debouches  into  the  Caribbean 
Sea. 

With  the  exception  of  Brazil,  republics  have  come  to  occupy 
South  as  well  as  North  America.  In  comparing  South  Amer- 
ica (reckoning  Mexico  as  part  of  it)  with  North  America,  we 
observe  an  astonishing  contrast. 

In  North  America  we  witness  a  prosperous  state  of  things ; 
an  increase  of  industry  and  population  civil  order  and  firm 
Vol.  23  E— Classics 


84  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

freedom;  the  whole  federation  constitutes  but  a  single  state, 
and  has  its  political  centres.  In  South  America,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  republics  depend  only  on  military  force ;  their  whole 
history  is  a  continued  revolution;  federated  states  become 
disunited ;  others  previously  separated  become  united ;  and 
all  these  changes  originate  in  military  revolutions.  The  more 
special  differences  between  the  two  parts  of  America  show 
us  two  opposite  directions,  the  one  in  political  respects,  the  other 
in  regard  to  religion.  South  America,  where  the  Spaniards 
settled  and  asserted  supremacy,  is  Catholic;  North  America, 
although  a  land  of  sects  of  every  name,  is  yet  fundamentally, 
Protestant.  A  wider  distinction  is  presented  in  the  fact,  that 
South  America  was  conquered,  but  North  America  colonized. 
The  Spaniards  took  possession  of  South  America  to  govern  it, 
and  to  become  rich  through  occupying  political  offices,  and  by 
exactions.  Depending  on  a  very  distant  mother  country,  their 
desires  found  a  larger  scope,  and  by  force,  address  and  confi- 
dence they  gained  a  great  predominance  over  the  Indians.  The 
North  American  States  were,  on  the  other  hand,  entirely  colo- 
nized, by  Europeans.  Since  in  England  Puritans,  Episcopal- 
ians, and  Catholics  were  engaged  in  perpetual  conflict,  and  now 
one  party,  now  the  other,  had  the  upper  hand,  many  emigrated 
to  seek  religious  freedom  on  a  foreign  shore.  These  were  in- 
dustrious Europeans,  who  betook  themselves  to  agriculture, 
tobacco  and  cotton  planting,  etc.  Soon  the  whole  attention 
of  the  inhabitants  was  given  to  labor,  and  the  basis  of  their 
existence  as  a  united  body  lay  in  the  necessities  that  bind  man 
to  man,  the  desire  of  repose,  the  establishment  of  civil  rights, 
security  and  freedom,  and  a  community  arising  from  the  aggre- 
gation of  individuals  as  atomic  constituents ;  so  that  the  state 
was  merely  something  external  for  the  protection  of  property. 
From  the  Protestant  religion  sprang  the  principle  of  the  mutual 
confidence  of  individuals — trust  in  the  honorable  dispositions 
of  other  men ;  for  in  the  Protestant  Church  the  entire  life — its 
activity  generally — is  the  field  for  what  it  deems  religious 
works.  Among  Catholics,  on  the  contrary,  the  basis  of  such 
a  confidence  cannot  exist;  for  in  secular  matters  only  force 
and  voluntary  subservience  are  the  principles  of  action;  and 
the  forms  which  are  called  Constitutions  are  in  this  case  only 
a  resort  of  necessity,  and  are  no  protection  against  mistrust. 
If  we  compare  North  America  further  with  Europe,  we  shall 


INTRODUCTION  85 

find  in  the  former  the  permanent  example  of  a  republican  con- 
stitution. A  subjective  unity  presents  itself;  for  there  is  a 
President  at  the  head  of  the  State,  who,  for  the  sake  of  security 
against  any  monarchical  ambition,  is  chosen  only  for  four  years. 
Universal  protection  for  property,  and  a  something  approach- 
ing entire  immunity  from  public  burdens,  are  facts  which  are 
constantly  held  up  to  commendation.  We  have  in  these  facts 
the  fundamental  character  of  the  community — the  endeavor  of 
the  individual  after  acquisition,  commercial  profit,  and  gain; 
the  preponderance  of  private  interest,  devoting  itself  to  that  of 
the  community  only  for  its  own  advantage.  We  find,  certainly, 
legal  relations — a  formal  code  of  laws;  but  respect  for  law 
exists  apart  from  genuine  probity,  and  the  American  merchants 
commonly  lie  under  the  imputation  of  dishonest  dealings  under 
legal  protection.  If,  on  the  one  side,  the  Protestant  Church 
develops  the  essential  principle  of  confidence,  as  already  stated, 
it  thereby  involves  on  the  other  hand  the  recognition  of  the 
validity  of  the  element  of  feeling  to  such  a  degree  as  gives 
encouragement  to  unseemly  varieties  of  caprice.  Those  who 
adopt  this  standpoint  maintain,  that,  as  everyone  may  have  his 
peculiar  way  of  viewing  things  generally,  so  he  may  have  also 
a  religion  peculiar  to  himself.  Thence  the  splitting  up  into  so 
many  sects,  which  reach  the  very  acme  of  absurdity;  many  of 
which  have  a  form  of  worship  consisting  in  convulsive  move- 
ments, and  sometimes  in  the  most  sensuous  extravagances. 
This  complete  freedom  of  worship  is  developed  to  such  a  de- 
gree, that  the  various  congregations  choose  ministers  and  dis- 
miss them  according  to  their  absolute  pleasure ;  for  the  Church 
is  no  independent  existence — having  a  substantial  spiritual  be- 
ing, and  correspondingly  permanent  external  arrangement — 
but  the  affairs  of  religion  are  regulated  by  the  good  pleasure 
for  the  time  being  of  the  members  of  the  community.  In  North 
America  the  most  unbounded  license  of  imagination  in  religious 
matters  prevails,  and  that  religious  unity  is  wanting  which  has 
been  maintained  in  European  States,  where  deviations  are  lim- 
ited to  a  few  confessions.  As  to  the  political  condition  of  North 
America,  the  general  object  of  the  existence  of  this  State  is 
not  yet  fixed  and  determined,  and  the  necessity  for  a  firm 
combination  does  not  yet  exist;  for  a  real  State  and  a  real 
Government  arise  only  after  a  distinction  of  classes  has  arisen, 
when  wealth  and  poverty  become  extreme,  and  when  such  a 


86  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

condition  of  things  presents  itself  that  a  large  portion  of  the 
people  can  no  longer  satisfy  its  necessities  in  the  way  in  which 
it  has  been  accustomed  so  to  do.  But  America  is  hitherto 
exempt  from  this  pressure,  for  it  has  the  outlet  of  colonization 
constantly  and  widely  open,  and  multitudes  are  continually 
streaming  into  the  plains  of  the  Mississippi.  By  this  means 
the  chief  source  of  discontent  is  removed,  and  the  continuation 
of  the  existing  civil  condition  is  guaranteed.  A  comparison 
of  the  United  States  of  North  America  with  European  lands 
is  therefore  impossible;  for  in  Europe,  such  a  natural  outlet 
for  population,  notwithstanding  all  the  emigrations  that  take 
place,  does  not  exist.  Had  the  woods  of  Germany  been  in 
existence,  the  French  Revolution  would  not  have  occurred. 
North  America  will  be  comparable  with  Europe  only  after  the 
immeasurable  space  which  that  country  presents  to  its  inhabi- 
tants shall  have  been  occupied,  and  the  members  of  the  political 
body  shall  have  begun  to  be  pressed  back  on  each  other.  North 
America  is  still  in  the  condition  of  having  land  to  begin  to  culti- 
vate. Only  when,  as  in  Europe,  the  direct  increase  of  agricult- 
urists is  checked,  will  the  inhabitants,  instead  of  pressing  out- 
wards to  occupy  the  fields,  press  inwards  upon  each  other — 
pursuing  town  occupations,  and  trading  with  their  fellow- 
citizens;  and  so  form  a  compact  system  of  civil  society,  and 
require  an  organized  state.  The  North  American  Federation 
have  no  neighboring  State  (towards  which  they  occupy  a  rela- 
tion similar  to  that  of  European  States  to  each  other),  one 
which  they  regard  with  mistrust,  and  against  which  they  must 
keep  up  a  standing  army.  Canada  and  Mexico  are  not  objects 
of  fear,  and  England  has  had  fifty  years'  experience,  that  free 
America  is  more  profitable  to  her  than  it  was  in  a  state  of 
dependence.  The  militia  of  the  North  American  Republic 
proved  themselves  quite  as  brave  in  the  War  of  Independence 
as  the  Dutch  under  Philip  II ;  but  generally,  where  Inde- 
pendence is  not  at  stake,  less  power  is  displayed,  and  in  the 
year  1814  the  militia  held  out  but  indifferently  against  the 
English. 

America  is  therefore  the  land  of  the  future,  where,  in  the 
ages  that  lie  before  us,  the  burden  of  the  World's  History  shall 
reveal  itself — perhaps  in  a  contest  between  North  and  South 
America.  It  is  a  land  of  desire  for  all  those  who  are  weary  of 
the  historical  lumber-room  of  old  Europe.     Napoleon  is  re- 


INTRODUCTION  87 

ported  to  have  said :  "  Cette  vieille  Europe  m'ennuie."  It  is 
for  America  to  abandon  the  ground  on  which  hitherto  the  His- 
tory of  the  World  has  developed  itself.  What  has  taken  place 
in  the  New  World  up  to  the  present  time  is  only  an  echo  of 
the  Old  World — the  expression  of  a  foreign  Life;  and  as  a 
Land  of  the  Future,  it  has  no  interest  for  us  here,  for,  as  re- 
gards History,  our  concern  must  be  with  that  which  has  been 
and  that  which  is.  In  regard  to  Philosophy,  on  the  other  hand, 
we  have  to  do  with  that  which  (strictly  speaking)  is  neither 
past  nor  future,  but  with  that  which  is,  which  has  an  eternal 
existence — with  Reason;  and  this  is  quite  sufficient  to  oc- 
cupy us. 

Dismissing,  then,  the  New  World,  and  the  dreams  to  which 
it  may  give  rise,  we  pass  over  to  the  Old  World — the  scene  of 
the  World's  History;  and  must  first  direct  attention  to  the 
natural  elements  and  conditions  of  existence  which  it  presents. 
America  is  divided  into  two  parts,  which  are  indeed  connected 
by  an  Isthmus,  but  which  forms  only  an  external,  material 
bond  of  union.  The  Old  World,  on  the  contrary,  which  lies 
opposite  to  America,  and  is  separated  from  it  by  the  Atlantic 
Ocean,  has  its  continuity  interrupted  by  a  deep  inlet — the 
Mediterranean  Sea.  The  three  Continents  that  compose  it 
have  an  essential  relation  to  each  other,  and  constitute  a  totality. 
Their  peculiar  feature  is  that  they  lie  round  this  Sea,  and  there- 
fore have  an  easy  means  of  communication;  for  rivers  and 
seas  are  not  to  be  regarded  as  disjoining,  but  as  uniting.  Eng- 
land and  Brittany,  Norway  and  Denmark,  Sweden  and  Livonia, 
have  been  united.  For  the  three  quarters  of  the  globe  the  Medi- 
terranean Sea  is  similarly  the  uniting  element,  and  the  centre 
of  World-History.  Greece  lies  here,  the  focus  of  light  in  His- 
tory. Then  in  Syria  we  have  Jerusalem,  the  centre  of  Judaism 
and  of  Christianity ;  southeast  of  it  lie  Mecca  and  Medina,  the 
cradle  of  the  Mussulman  faith ;  towards  the  west  Delphi  and 
Athens;  farther  west  still,  Rome:  on  the  Mediterranean  Sea 
we  have  also  Alexandria  and  Carthage.  The  Mediterranean 
is  thus  the  heart  of  the  Old  World,  for  it  is  that  which  condi- 
tioned and  vitalized  it.  Without  it  the  History  of  the  World 
could  not  be  conceived:  it  would  be  like  ancient  Rome  or 
Athens  without  the  forum,  where  all  the  life  of  the  city  came 
together.  The  extensive  tract  of  eastern  Asia  is  severed  from 
the  process  of  general  historical  development,  and  has  no  share 


88  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

in  it ;  so  also  Northern  Europe,  which  took  part  in  the  World's 
History  only  at  a  later  date,  and  had  no  part  in  it  while  the  Old 
World  lasted ;  for  this  was  exclusively4imited  to  the  countries 
lying  round  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  Julius  Caesar's  crossing 
the  Alps — the  conquest  of  Gaul  and  the  relation  into  which  the 
Germans  thereby  entered  with  the  Roman  Empire — makes 
consequently  an  epoch  in  History;  for  in  virtue  of  this  it 
begins  to  extend  its  boundaries  beyond  the  Alps.  Eastern  Asia 
and  that  trans- Alpine  country  are  the  extremes  of  this  agitated 
focus  of  human  life  around  the  Mediterranean — the  beginning 
and  end  of  History — its  rise  and  decline. 

The  more  special  geographical  distinctions  must  now  be  es- 
tablished, and  they  are  to  be  regarded  as  essential,  rational 
distinctions,  in  contrast  with  the  variety  of  merely  accidental 
circumstances.  Of  these  characteristic  differences  there  are 
three : — 

(i)  The  arid  elevated  land  with  its  extensive  steppes  and 
plains. 

(2)  The  valley  plains — the  Land  of  Transition  permeated 
and  watered  by  great  Streams. 

(3)  The  coast  region  in  immediate  connection  with  the  sea. 
These  three  geographical  elements  are  the  essential  ones, 

and  we  shall  see  each  quarter  of  the  globe  triply  divided  ac- 
cordingly. The  first  is  the  substantial,  unvarying,  metallic, 
elevated  region,  intractably  shut  up  within  itself,  but  perhaps 
adapted  to  send  forth  impulses  over  the  rest  of  the  world ;  the 
second  forms  centres  of  civilization,  and  is  the  yet  undeveloped 
independence  [of  humanity]  ;  the  third  offers  the  means  of 
connecting  the  world  together,  and  of  maintaining  the  con- 
nection. 

( 1 )  The  elevated  land. — We  see  such  a  description  of  coun- 
try in  middle  Asia  inhabited  by  Mongolians  (using  the  word 
in  a  general  sense)  :  from  the  Caspian  Sea  these  Steppes 
stretch  in  a  northerly  direction  towards  the  Black  Sea.  As 
similar  tracts  may  be  cited  the  deserts  of  Arabia  and  of  Barbary 
in  Africa;  in  South  America  the  country  round  the  Orinoco, 
and  in  Paraguay.  The  peculiarity  of  the  inhabitants  of  this 
elevated  region,  which  is  watered  sometimes  only  by  rain,  or 
by  the  overflowing  of  a  river  (as  are  the  plains  of  the  Orinoco) 
— is  the  patriarchal  life,  the  division  into  single  families.  The 
region  which  these  families  occupy  is  unfruitful  or  productive 


INTRODUCTION  89 

only  temporarily:  the  inhabitants  have  their  property  not  in 
the  land — from  which  they  derive  only  a  trifling  profit — but  in 
the  animals  that  wander  with  them.  For  a  long  time  these  find 
pasture  in  the  plains,  and  when  they  are  depastured,  the  tribe 
moves  to  other  parts  of  the  country.  They  are  careless  and 
provide  nothing  for  the  winter,  on  which  account  therefore, 
half  of  the  herd  is  frequently  cut  off.  Among  these  inhabitants 
of  the  upland  there  exist  no  legal  relations,  and  consequently 
there  are  exhibited  among  them  the  extremes  of  hospitality 
and  rapine ;  the  last  more  especially  when  they  are  surrounded 
by  civilized  nations,  as  the  Arabians,  who  are  assisted  in  their 
depredations  by  their  horses  and  camels.  The  Mongolians  feed 
on  mares'  milk,  and  thus  the  horse  supplies  them  at  the  same 
time  with  appliances  for  nourishment  and  for  war.  Although 
this  is  the  form  of  their  patriarchal  life,  it  often  happens  that 
they  cohere  together  in  great  masses,  and  by  an  impulse  of  one 
kind  or  another,  are  excited  to  external  movement.  Though 
previously  of  peaceful  disposition,  they  then  rush  as  a  devas- 
tating inundation  over  civilized  lands,  and  the  revolution  which 
ensues  has  no  other  result  than  destruction  and  desolation. 
Such  an  agitation  was  excited  among  those  tribes  under  Gen- 
ghis Khan  and  Tamerlane :  they  destroyed  all  before  them ;  then 
vanished  again,  as  does  an  overwhelming  Forest-torrent — pos- 
sessing no  inherent  principle  of  vitality.  From  the  uplands 
they  rush  down  into  the  dells :  there  dwell  peaceful  mountain- 
eers— herdsmen  who  also  occupy  themselves  with  agriculture, 
as  do  the  Swiss.  Asia  has  also  such  a  people :  they  are  however 
on  the  whole  a  less  important  element. 

(2)  The  valley  plains. — These  are  plains,  permeated  by  riv- 
ers, and  which  owe  the  whole  of  their  fertility  to  the  streams 
by  which  they  are  formed.  Such  a  Valley-Plain  is  China- 
India,  traversed  by  the  Indus  and  the  Ganges — Babylonia, 
where  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris  flow — Egypt,  watered  by 
the  Nile.  In  these  regions  extensive  Kingdoms  arise,  and  the 
foundation  of  great  States  begins.  For  agriculture,  which 
prevails  here  as  the  primary  principle  of  subsistence  for  indi- 
viduals, is  assisted  by  the  regularity  of  seasons,  which  require 
corresponding  agricultural  operations;  property  in  land  com- 
mences, and  the  consequent  legal  relations ; — that  is  to  say,  the 
basis  and  foundation  of  the  State,  which  becomes  possible  only 
in  connection  with  such  relations. 


9° 


PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 


(3)  The  coast  land. — A  River  divides  districts  of  country 
from  each  other,  but  still  more  does  the  sea;  and  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  regard  water  as  the  separating  element.  Especially 
in  recent  times  has  it  been  insisted  upon  that  States  must  neces- 
sarily have  been  separated  by  natural  features.  Yet  on  the 
contrary,  it  may  be  asserted  as  a  fundamental  principle  that 
nothing  unites  so  much  as  water,  for  countries  are  nothing  else 
than  districts  occupied  by  streams.  Silesia,  for  instance,  is  the 
valley  of  the  Oder ;  Bohemia  and  Saxony  are  the  valley  of  the 
Elbe ;  Egypt  is  the  valley  of  the  Nile.  With  the  sea  this  is  not 
less  the  case,  as  has  been  already  pointed  out.  Only  Mountains 
separate.  Thus  the  Pyrenees  decidedly  separate  Spain  from 
France.  The  Europeans  have  been  in  constant  connection  with 
America  and  the  East  Indies  ever  since  they  were  discovered ; 
but  they  have  scarcely  penetrated  into  the  interior  of  Africa  and 
Asia,  because  intercourse  by  land  is  much  more  difficult  than 
by  water.  Only  through  the  fact  of  being  a  sea,  has  the  Medi- 
terranean become  a  focus  of  national  life.  Let  us  now  look 
at  the  character  of  the  nations  that  are  conditioned  by  this 
third  element. 

The  sea  gives  us  the  idea  of  the  indefinite,  the  unlimited,  and 
infinite;  and  in  feeling  his  own  infinite  in  that  Infinite,  man 
is  stimulated  and  emboldened  to  stretch  beyond  the  limited : 
the  sea  invites  man  to  conquest,  and  to  piratical  plunder,  but 
also  to  honest  gain  and  to  commerce.  The  land,  the  mere 
Valley-plain  attaches  him  to  the  soil ;  it  involves  him  in  an 
infinite  multitude  of  dependencies,  but  the  sea  carries  him  out 
beyond  these  limited  circles  of  thought  and  action.  Those  who 
navigate  the  sea,  have  indeed  gain  for  their  object,  but  the 
means  are  in  this  respect  paradoxical,  inasmuch  as  they  hazard 
both  property  and  life  to  attain  it.  The  means  therefore  are 
the  very  opposite  to  that  which  they  aim  at.  This  is  what  exalts 
their  gain  and  occupation  above  itself,  and  makes  it  something 
brave  and  noble.  Courage  is  necessarily  introduced  into  trade, 
daring  is  joined  with  wisdom.  For  the  daring  which  encoun- 
ters the  sea  must  at  the  same  time  embrace  wariness — cunning 
— since  it  has  to  do  with  the  treacherous,  the  most  unreliable 
and  deceitful  element.  This  boundless  plain  is  absolutely  yield- 
ing— withstanding  no  pressure,  not  even  a  breath  of  wind.  It 
looks  boundlessly  innocent,  submissive,  friendly,  and  insinuat- 
ing;  and  it  is  exactly  this  submissiveness  which  changes  the 


INTRODUCTION 


9» 


sea  into  the  most  dangerous  and  violent  element.  To  this  de- 
ceitfulness  and  violence  man  opposes  merely  a  simple  piece  of 
wood ;  confides  entirely  in  his  courage  and  presence  of  mind ; 
and  thus  passes  from  a  firm  ground  to  an  unstable  support, 
taking  his  artificial  ground  with  him.  The  Ship — that  swan 
of  the  sea,  which  cuts  the  watery  plain  in  agile  and  arching 
movements  or  describes  circles  upon  it — is  a  machine  whose 
invention  does  the  greatest  honor  to  the  boldness  of  man  as 
well  as  to  his  understanding.  This  stretching  out  of  the  sea 
beyond  the  limitations  of  the  land,  is  wanting  to  the  splendid 
political  edifices  of  Asiatic  States,  although  they  themselves 
border  on  the  sea — as  for  example,  China.  For  them  the  sea 
is  only  the  limit,  the  ceasing  of  the  land ;  they  have  no  positive 
relation  to  it.  The  activity  to  which  the  sea  invites,  is  a  quite 
peculiar  one :  thence  arises  the  fact  that  the  coast-lands  almost 
always  separate  themselves  from  the  states  of  the  interior  al- 
though they  are  connected  with  these  by  a  river.  Thus  Holland 
has  severed  itself  from  Germany,  Portugal  from  Spain. 

In  accordance  with  these  data  we  may  now  consider  the 
three  portions  of  the  globe  with  which  History  is  concerned, 
and  here  the  three  characteristic  principles  manifest  themselves 
in  a  more  or  less  striking  manner:  Africa  has  for  its  leading 
classical  feature  the  Upland,  Asia  the  contrast  of  river  regions 
with  the  Upland,  Europe  the  mingling  of  these  several  ele- 
ments. 

Africa  must  be  divided  into  three  parts:  one  is  that  which 
lies  south  of  the  desert  of  Sahara — Africa  proper — the  Upland 
almost  entirely  unknown  to  us,  with  narrow  coast-tracts  along 
the  sea ;  the  second  is  that  to  the  north  of  the  desert — European 
Africa  (if  we  may  so  call  it) — a  coastland;  the  third  is  the 
river  region  of  the  Nile,  the  only  valley-land  of  Africa,  and 
which  is  in  connection  with  Asia. 

Africa  proper,  as  far  as  History  goes  back,  has  remained— 
for  all  purposes  of  connection  with  the  rest  of  the  World — 
shut  up ;  it  is  the  Gold-land  compressed  within  itself — the  land 
of  childhood,  which  lying  beyond  the  day  of  self-conscious  his- 
tory, is  enveloped  in  the  dark  mantle  of  Night.  Its  isolated 
character  originates,  not  merely  in  its  tropical  nature,  but 
essentially  m  its  geographical  condition.  The  triangle 
which  it  forms  (if  we  take  the  West  Coast — which  in  the  Gulf 
of  Guinea  makes  a  strongly  indented  angle — for  one  side,  and 


92  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

in  the  same  way  the  East  Coast  to  Cape  Gardafu  for  another) 
is  on  two  sides  so  constituted  for  the  most  part,  as  to  have 
a  very  narrow  Coast  Tract,  habitable  only  in  a  few  isolated 
spots.  Next  to  this  towards  the  interior,  follows  to  almost  the 
same  extent,  a  girdle  of  marsh  land  with  the  most  luxuriant 
vegetation,  the  especial  home  of  ravenous  beasts,  snakes  of  all 
kinds — a  border  tract  whose  atmosphere  is  poisonous  to  Euro- 
peans. This  border  constitutes  the  base  of  a  cincture  of  high 
mountains,  which  are  only  at  distant  intervals  traversed  by 
streams,  and  where  they  are  so,  in  such  a  way  as  to  form  no 
means  of  union  with  the  interior;  for  the  interruption  occurs 
but  seldom  below  the  upper  part  of  the  mountain  ranges,  and 
only  in  individual  narrow  channels,  where  are  frequently  found 
innavigable  waterfalls  and  torrents  crossing  each  other  in  wild 
confusion.  During  the  three  or  three  and  a  half  centuries  that 
the  Europeans  have  known  this  border-land  and  have  taken 
places  in  it  into  their  possession,  they  have  only  here  and  there 
(and  that  but  for  a  short  time)  passed  these  mountains,  and 
have  nowhere  settled  down  beyond  them.  The  land  surrounded 
by  these  mountains  is  an  unknown  Upland,  from  which  on  the 
other  hand  the  Negroes  have  seldom  made  their  way  through. 
In  the  sixteenth  century  occurred  at  many  very  distant  points, 
outbreaks  of  terrible  hordes  which  rushed  down  upon  the  more 
peaceful  inhabitants  of  the  declivities.  Whether  any  internal 
movement  had  taken  place,  or  if  so,  of  what  character,  we  do 
not  know.  What  we  do  know  of  these  hordes,  is  the  contrast 
between  their  conduct  in  their  wars  and  forays  themselves — 
which  exhibited  the  most  reckless  inhumanity  and  disgusting 
barbarism — and  the  fact  that  afterwards,  when  their  rage  was 
spent,  in  the  calm  time  of  peace,  they  showed  themselves  mild 
and  well  disposed  towards  the  Europeans,  when  they  became 
acquainted  with  them.  This  holds  good  of  the  Fullahs  and  of 
the  Mandingo  tribes,  who  inhabit  the  mountain  terraces  of 
the  Senegal  and  Gambia.  The  second  portion  of  Africa  is 
the  river  district  of  the  Nile — Egypt;  which  was  adapted  to 
become  a  mighty  centre  of  independent  civilization,  and  there- 
fore is  as  isolated  and  singular  in  Africa  as  Africa  itself  appears 
in  relation  to  the  other  parts  of  the  world.  The  northern  part 
of  Africa,  which  may  be  specially  called  that  of  the  coast-terri- 
tory (for  Egypt  has  been  frequently  driven  back  on  itself,  by 
the  Mediterranean)  lies  on  the  Mediterranean  and  the  Atlantic; 


INTRODUCTION 


93 


a  magnificent  territory,  on  which  Carthage  once  lay — the  site 
of  the  modern  Morocco,  Algiers,  Tunis,  and  Tripoli.  This 
part  was  to  be — must  be  attached  to  Europe :  the  French  have 
lately  made  a  successful  effort  in  this  direction:  like  Hither- 
Asia,  it  looks  Europe-wards.  Here  in  their  turn  have  Cartha- 
ginians, Romans,  and  Byzantines,  Mussulmans,  Arabians,  had 
their  abode,  and  the  interests  of  Europe  have  always  striven 
to  get  a  footing  in  it. 

The  peculiarly  African  character  is  difficult  to  comprehend, 
for  the  very  reason  that  in  reference  to  it,  we  must  quite  give 
up  the  principle  which  naturally  accompanies  all  our  ideas — 
the  category  of  Universality.  In  Negro  life  the  characteristic 
point  is  the  fact  that  consciousness  has  not  yet  attained  to 
the  realization  of  any  substantial  objective  existence — as  for 
example,  God,  or  Law — in  which  the  interest  of  man's  volition 
is  involved  and  in  which  he  realizes  his  own  being.  This  dis- 
tinction between  himself  as  an  individual  and  the  universality 
of  his  essential  being,  the  African  in  the  uniform,  undeveloped 
oneness  of  his  existence  has  not  yet  attained;  so  that  the 
Knowledge  of  an  absolute  Being,  an  Other  and  a  Higher  than 
his  individual  self,  is  entirely  wanting.  The  Negro,  as  already 
observed,  exhibits  the  natural  man  in  his  completely  wild  and 
untamed  state.  We  must  lay  aside  all  thought  of  reverence 
and  morality — all  that  we  call  feeling — if  we  would  rightly 
comprehend  him;  there  is  nothing  harmonious  with  humanity 
to  be  found  in  this  type  of  character.  The  copious  and  circum- 
stantial accounts  of  Missionaries  completely  confirm  this,  and 
Mahommedanism  appears  to  be  the  only  thing  which  in  any 
way  brings  the  Negroes  within  the  range  of  culture.  The  Ma- 
hommedans  too  understand  better  than  the  Europeans,  how  to 
penetrate  into  the  interior  of  the  country.  The  grade  of  culture 
which  the  Negroes  occupy  may  be  more  nearly  appreciated  by 
considering  the  aspect  which  Religion  presents  among  them. 
That  which  forms  the  basis  of  religious  conceptions  is  the  con- 
sciousness on  the  part  of  man  of  a  Higher  Power — even  though 
this  is  conceived  only  as  a  vis  natures — in  relation  to  which  he 
feels  himself  a  weaker,  humbler  being.  Religion  begins  with 
the  consciousness  that  there  is  something  higher  than  man. 
But  even  Herodotus  called  the  Negroes  sorcerers: — now  in 
Sorcery  we  have  not  the  idea  of  a  God,  of  a  moral  faith;  it 
exhibits  man  as  the  highest  power,  regarding  him  as  alone 


94  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

occupying  a  position  of  command  over  the  power  of  Nature. 
We  have  here  therefore  nothing  to  do  with  a  spiritual  adora- 
tion of  God,  nor  with  an  empire  of  >Right.  God  thunders,  but 
is  not  on  that  account  recognized  as  God.  For  the  soul  of  man, 
God  must  be  more  than  a  thunderer,  whereas  among  the  Ne- 
groes this  is  not  the  case.  Although  they  are  necessarily  con- 
scious of  dependence  upon  nature — for  they  need  the  bene- 
ficial influence  of  storm,  rain,  cessation  of  the  rainy  period,  and 
so  on — yet  this  does  not  conduct  them  to  the  consciousness  of 
a  Higher  Power:  it  is  they  who  command  the  elements,  and 
this  they  call  "  magic."  The  Kings  have  a  class  of  ministers 
through  whom  they  command  elemental  changes,  and  every 
place  possesses  such  magicians,  who  perform  special  ceremo- 
nies, with  all  sorts  of  gesticulations,  dances,  uproar,  and  shout- 
ing, and  in  the  midst  of  this  confusion  commence  their  incanta- 
tions. The  second  element  in  their  religion,  consists  in  their 
giving  an  outward  form  to  this  supernatural  power — projecting 
their  hidden  might  into  the  world  of  phenomena  by  means  of 
images.  What  they  conceive  of  as  the  power  in  question,  is 
therefore  nothing  really  objective,  having  a  substantial  being 
and  different  from  themselves,  but  the  first  thing  that  comes 
in  their  way.  This,  taken  quite  indiscriminately,  they  exalt  to 
the  dignity  of  a  "  Genius  " ;  it  may  be  an  animal,  a  tree,  a 
stone,  or  a  wooden  figure.  This  is  their  Fetich — a  word  to 
which  the  Portuguese  first  gave  currency,  and  which  is  derived 
from  feitizo,  magic.  Here,  in  the  Fetich,  a  kind  of  objective 
independence  as  contrasted  with  the  arbitrary  fancy  of  the 
individual  seems  to  manifest  itself;  but  as  the  objectivity  is 
nothing  other  than  the  fancy  of  the  individual  projecting  itself 
into  space,  the  human  individuality  remains  master  of  the  im- 
age it  has  adopted.  If  any  mischance  occurs  which  the  Fetich 
has  not  averted,  if  rain  is  suspended,  if  there  is  a  failure  in  the 
crops,  they  bind  and  beat  or  destroy  the  Fetich  and  so  get  rid 
of  it,  making  another  immediately,  and  thus  holding  it  in  their 
own  power.  Such  a  Fetich  has  no  independence  as  an  object 
of  religious  worship;  still  less  has  it  aesthetic  independence 
as  a  work  of  art ;  it  is  merely  a  creation  that  expresses  the 
arbitrary  choice  of  its  maker,  and  which  always  remains  in  his 
hands.  In  short  there  is  no  relation  of  dependence  in  this  re- 
ligion. There  is  however  one  feature  that  points  to  something 
beyond; — the  Worship  of  the  Dead — in  which  their  deceased 


INTRODUCTION 


95 


forefathers  and  ancestors  are  regarded  by  them  as  a  power 
influencing  the  living.  Their  idea  in  the  matter  is  that  these 
ancestors  exercise  vengeance  and  inflict  upon  man  various 
injuries — exactly  in  the  sense  in  which  this  was  supposed  of 
witches  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Yet  the  power  of  the  dead  is  not 
held  superior  to  that  of  the  living,  for  the  Negroes  command 
the  dead  and  lay  spells  upon  them.  Thus  the  power  in  question 
remains  substantially  always  in  bondage  to  the  living  subject. 
Death  itself  is  looked  upon  by  the  Negroes  as  no  universal 
natural  law ;  even  this,  they  think,  proceeds  from  evil-disposed 
magicians.  In  this  doctrine  is  certainly  involved  the  elevation 
of  man  over  Nature ;  to  such  a  degree  that  the  chance  volition 
of  man  is  superior  to  the  merely  natural — that  he  looks  upon 
this  as  an  instrument  to  which  he  does  not  pay  the  compliment 
of  treating  it  in  a  way  conditioned  by  itself,  but  which  he  com- 
mands.* 

But  from  the  fact  that  man  is  regarded  as  the  Highest,  it 
follows  that  he  has  no  respect  for  himself;  for  only  with  the 
consciousness  of  a  Higher  Being  does  he  reach  a  point  of  view 
which  inspires  him  with  real  reverence.  For  if  arbitrary  choice 
is  the  absolute,  the  only  substantial  objectivity  that  is  realized, 
the  mind  cannot  in  such  be  conscious  of  any  Universality.  The 
Negroes  indulge,  therefore,  that  perfect  contempt  for  humanity, 
which  in  its  bearing  on  Justice  and  Morality  is  the  fundamental 
characteristic  of  the  race.  They  have  moreover  no  knowledge 
of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  although  spectres  are  supposed 
to  appear.  The  undervaluing  of  humanity  among  them  reaches 
an  incredible  degree  of  intensity.  Tyranny  is  regarded  as  no 
wrong,  and  cannibalism  is  looked  upon  as  quite  customary  and 
proper.  Among  us  instinct  deters  from  it,  if  we  can  speak  of 
instinct  at  all  as  appertaining  to  man.  But  with  the  Negro  this 
is  not  the  case,  and  the  devouring  of  human  flesh  is  altogether 
consonant  with  the  general  principles  of  the  African  race ;  to 
the  sensual  Negro,  human  flesh  is  but  an  object  of  sense — mere 
flesh.  At  the  death  of  a  King  hundreds  are  killed  and  eaten ; 
prisoners  are  butchered  and  their  flesh  sold  in  the  markets; 
the  victor  is  accustomed  to  eat  the  heart  of  his  slain  foe.  When 
magical  rites  are  performed,  it  frequently  happens  that  the  sor- 
cerer kills  the  first  that  comes  in  his  way  and  divides  his  body 

*  Vide  Hegel's  "  Vorlesungen  uber  die  Philosophic  der   Religion,"   I.   284  and 
289.    2d  Ed. 


96  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

among  the  bystanders.  Another  characteristic  fact  in  refer- 
ence to  the  Negroes  is  Slavery.  Negroes  are  enslaved  by  Eu- 
ropeans and  sold  to  America.  Bad  as  this  may  be,  their  lot  in 
their  own  land  is  even  worse,  since  there  a  slavery  quite  as  ab- 
solute exists;  for  it  is  the  essential  principle  of  slavery,  that 
man  has  not  yet  attained  a  consciousness  of  his  freedom,  and 
consequently  sinks  down  to  a  mere  Thing — an  object  of  no 
value.  Among  the  Negroes  moral  sentiments  are  quite  weak, 
or  more  strictly  speaking,  non-existent.  Parents  sell  their 
children,  and  conversely  children  their  parents,  as  either  has  the 
opportunity.  Through  the  pervading  influence  of  slavery  all 
those  bonds  of  moral  regard  which  we  cherish  towards  each 
other  disappear,  and  it  does  not  occur  to  the  Negro  mind  to  ex- 
pect from  others  what  we  are  enabled  to  claim.  The  polygamy 
of  the  Negroes  has  frequently  for  its  object  the  having  many 
children,  to  be  sold,  every  one  of  them,  into  slavery ;  and  very 
often  naive  complaints  on  this  score  are  heard,  as  for  instance 
in  the  case  of  a  Negro  in  London,  who  lamented  that  he  was 
now  quite  a  poor  man  because  he  had  already  sold  all  his  rela- 
tions. In  the  contempt  of  humanity  displayed  by  the  Negroes, 
it  is  not  so  much  a  despising  of  death  as  a  want  of  regard  for 
life  that  forms  the  characteristic  feature.  To  this  want  of  re- 
gard for  life  must  be  ascribed  the  great  courage,  supported  by 
enormous  bodily  strength,  exhibited  by  the  Negroes,  who  allow 
themselves  to  be  shot  down  by  thousands  in  war  with  Euro- 
peans. Life  has  a  value  only  when  it  has  something  valuable  as 
its  object. 

Turning  our  attention  in  the  next  place  to  the  category  of 
political  constitution,  we  shall  see  that  the  entire  nature  of  this 
race  is  such  as  to  preclude  the  existence  of  any  such  arrange- 
ment. The  standpoint  of  humanity  at  this  grade  is  mere  sen- 
suous volition  with  energy  of  will ;  since  universal  spiritual 
laws  (for  example,  that  of  the  morality  of  the  Family)  cannot 
be  recognized  here.  Universality  exists  only  as  arbitrary  sub- 
jective choice.  The  political  bond  can  therefore  not  possess 
such  a  character  as  that  free  laws  should  unite  the  community. 
There  is  absolutely  no  bond,  no  restraint  upon  that  arbitrary 
volition.  Nothing  but  external  force  can  hold  the  State  to- 
gether for  a  moment.  A  ruler  stands  at  the  head,  for  sensuous 
barbarism  can  only  be  restrained  by  despotic  power.  But  since 
the  subjects  are  of  equally  violent  temper  with  their  master, 


INTRODUCTION 


97 


they  keep  him  on  the  other  hand  within  limits.  Under  the  chief 
there  are  many  other  chiefs  with  whom  the  former,  whom  we 
will  call  the  King,  takes  counsel,  and  whose  consent  he  must 
seek  to  gain,  if  he  wishes  to  undertake  a  war  or  impose  a  tax. 
In  this  relation  he  can  exercise  more  or  less  authority,  and  by 
fraud  or  force  can  on  occasion  put  this  or  that  chieftain  out  of 
the  way.  Besides  this  the  Kings  have  other  specified  preroga- 
tives-. Among  the  Ashantees  the  King  inherits  all  the  property 
left  by  his  subjects  at  their  death.  In  other  places  all  unmar- 
ried women  belong  to  the  King,  and  whoever  wishes  a  wife, 
must  buy  her  from  him.  If  the  Negroes  are  discontented  with 
their  King  they  depose  and  kill  him.  In  Dahomey,  when  they 
are  thus  displeased,  the  custom  is  to  send  parrots'  eggs  to  the 
King,  as  a  sign  of  dissatisfaction  with  his  government.  Some- 
times also  a  deputation  is  sent,  which  intimates  to  him,  that  the 
burden  of  government  must  have  been  very  troublesome  to  him, 
and  that  he  had  better  rest  a  little.  The  King  then  thanks  his 
subjects,  goes  into  his  apartments,  and  has  himself  strangled 
by  the  women.  Tradition  alleges  that  in  former  times  a  state 
composed  of  women  made  itself  famous  by  its  conquests :  it  was 
a  state  at  whose  head  was  a  woman.  She  is  said  to  have 
pounded  her  own  son  in  a  mortar,  to  have  besmeared  herself  with 
the  blood,  and  to  have  had  the  blood  of  pounded  children  con- 
stantly at  hand.  She  is  said  to  haVe  driven  away  or  put  to'death 
all  the  males,  and  commanded  the  death  of  all  male  children. 
These  furies  destroyed  everything  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
were  driven  to  constant  plunderings,  because  they  did  not  cul- 
tivate the  land.  Captives  in  war  were  taken  as  husbands :  preg- 
nant women  had  to  betake  themselves  outside  the  encampment ; 
and  if  they  had  born  a  son,  put  him  out  of  the  way.  This  in- 
famous state,  the  report  goes  on  to  say,  subsequently  disap- 
peared. Accompanying  the  King  we  constantly  find  in  Negro 
States,  the  executioner,  whose  office  is  regarded  as  of  the  high- 
est consideration,  and  by  whose  hands,  the  King,  though  he 
makes  use  of  him  for  putting  suspected  persons  to  death,  may 
himself  suffer  death,  if  the  grandees  desire  it.  Fanaticism, 
which,  notwithstanding  the  yielding  disposition  of  the  Negro 
in  other  respects,  can  be  excited,  surpasses,  when  roused,  all 
belief.  An  English  traveller  states  that  when  a  war  is  deter- 
mined on  in  Ashantee,  solemn  ceremonies  precede  it :  among 
other  things  the  bones  of  the  King's  mother  are  laved  with 


98  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

human  blood.  As  a  prelude  to  the  war,  the  King  ordains  an 
onslaught  upon  his  own  metropolis,  as  if  to  excite  the  due  de- 
gree of  frenzy.  The  King  sent  word'to  the  English  Hutchin- 
son :  '  Christian,  take  care,  and  watch  well  over  your  family. 
The  messenger  of  death  has  drawn  his  sword  and  will  strike  the 
neck  of  many  Ashantees ;  when  the  drum  sounds  it  is  the  death 
signal  for  multitudes.  Come  to  the  King,  if  you  can,  and  fear 
nothing  for  yourself."  The  drum  beat,  and  a  terrible  carnage 
was  begun ;  all  who  came  in  the  way  of  the  frenzied  Negroes 
in  the  streets  were  stabbed.  On  such  occasions  the  King  has  all 
whom  he  suspects  killed,  and  the  deed  then  assumes  the  charac- 
ter of  a  sacred  act.  Every  idea  thrown  into  the  mind  of  the 
Negro  is  caught  up  and  realized  with  the  whole  energy  of  his 
will;  but  this  realization  involves  a  wholesale  destruction. 
These  people  continue  long  at  rest,  but  suddenly  their  passions 
ferment,  and  then  they  are  quite  beside  themselves.  The  de- 
struction which  is  the  consequence  of  their  excitement,  is  caused 
by  the  fact  that  it  is  no  positive  idea,  no  thought  which  produces 
these  commotions ; — a  physical  rather  than  a  spiritual  enthusi- 
asm. In  Dahomey,  when  the  King  dies,  the  bonds  of  society 
are  loosed ;  in  his  palace  begins  indiscriminate  havoc  and  dis- 
organization. All  the  wives  of  the  King  (in  Dahomey  their 
number  is  exactly  3,333)  are  massacred,  and  through  the  whole 
town  plunder  and  carnage  run  riot.  The  wives  of  the  King 
regard  this  their  death  as  a  necessity ;  they  go  richly  attired  to 
meet  it.  The  authorities  have  to  hasten  to  proclaim  the  new 
governor,  simply  to  put  a  stop  to  massacre. 

From  these  various  traits  it  is  manifest  that  want  of  self- 
control  distinguishes  the  character  of  the  Negroes.  This  con- 
dition is  capable  of  no  development  or  culture,  and  as  we  see 
them  at  this  day,  such  have  they  always  been.  The  only  essen- 
tial connection  that  has  existed  and  continued  between  the 
Negroes  and  the  Europeans  is  that  of  slavery.  In  this  the 
Negroes  see  nothing  unbecoming  them,  and  the  English  who 
have  done  most  for  abolishing  the  slave-trade  and  slavery,  are 
treated  by  the  Negroes  themselves  as  enemies.  For  it  is  a 
point  of  first  importance  with  the  Kings  to  sell  their  captured 
enemies,  or  even  their  own  subjects ;  and  viewed  in  the  light 
of  such  facts,  we  may  conclude  slavery  to  have  been  the  occasion 
of  the  increase  of  human  feeling  among  the  Negroes.  The  doc- 
trine which  we  deduce  from  this  condition  of  slavery  among  the 


INTRODUCTION 


99 


Negroes,  and  which  constitutes  the  only  side  of  the  question 
that  has  an  interest  for  our  inquiry,  is  that  which  we  deduce 
from  the  Idea :  viz.  that  the  "  Natural  condition  "  itself  is  one 
of  absolute  and  thorough  injustice — contravention  of  the  Right 
and  Just.  Every  intermediate  grade  between  this  and  the 
realization  of  a  rational  State  retains — as  might  be  expected— 
elements  and  aspects  of  injustice ;  therefore  we  find  slavery 
even  in  the  Greek  and  Roman  States,  as  we  do  serfdom  down 
to  the  latest  times.  But  thus  existing  in  a  State,  slavery  is  itself 
a  phase  of  advance  from  the  merely  isolated  sensual  existence — 
a  phase  of  education — a  mode  of  becoming  participant  in  a 
higher  morality  and  the  culture  connected  with  it.  Slavery  is 
in  and  for  itself  injustice,  for  the  essence  of  humanity  is  Freedom; 
but  for  this  man  must  be  matured.  The  gradual  abolition  of 
slavery  is  therefore  wiser  and  more  equitable  than  its  sudden  re- 
moval. 

At  this  point  we  leave  Africa,  not  to  mention  it  again.  For 
it  is  no  historical  part  of  the  World ;  it  has  no  movement  or 
development  to  exhibit.  Historical  movements  in  it — that  is  in 
its  northern  part — belong  to  the  Asiatic  or  European  World. 
Carthage  displayed  there  an  important  transitionary  phase  of 
civilization ;  but,  as  a  Phoenician  colony,  it  belongs  to  Asia. 
Egypt  will  be  considered  in  reference  to  the  passage  of  the 
human  mind  from  its  Eastern  to  its  Western  phase,  but  it  does 
not  belong  to  the  African  Spirit.  What  we  properly  under- 
stand by  Africa,  is  the  Unhistorical,  Undeveloped  Spirit,  still 
involved  in  the  conditions  of  mere  nature,  and  which  had  to  be 
presented  here  only  as  on  the  threshold  of  the  World's  History. 

Having  eliminated  this  introductory  element,  we  find  our- 
selves for  the  first  time  on  the  real  theatre  of  History.  It  now 
only  remains  for  us  to  give  a  prefatory  sketch  of  the  Geograph- 
ical basis  of  the  Asiatic  and  European  world.  Asia  is,  character- 
istically, the  Orient  quarter  of  the  globe — the  region  of  origina- 
tion. It  is  indeed  a  Western  world  for  America ;  but  as  Europe 
presents  on  the  whole,  the  centre  and  end  of  the  old  world,  and 
is  absolutely  the  West — so  Asia  is  absolutely  the  East. 

In  Asia  arose  the  Light  of  Spirit,  and  therefore  the  history  of 
the  World. 

We  must  now  consider  the  various  localities  of  Asia.  Its 
physical  constitution  presents  direct  antitheses,  and  the  essen- 
tial relation  of  these  antitheses.  Its  various  geographical  prin- 
ciples are  formations  in  themselves  developed  and  perfected. 


ioo  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

First,  the  northern  slope,  Siberia,  must  be  eliminated.  This 
slope,  from  the  Altai  chain,  with  its  fine  streams,  that  pour  their 
waters  into  the  northern  Ocean,  does  not  at  all  concern  us  here ; 
because  the  Northern  Zone,  as  already  stated,  lies  Out  of  the 
pale  of  History.  But  the  remainder  includes  three  very  inter- 
esting localities.  The  first  is,  as  in  Africa,  a  massive  Upland, 
with  a  mountain  girdle  which  contains  the  highest  summits  in 
the  World.  This  Upland  is  bounded  on  the  South  and  South- 
east, by  the  Mus-Tag  or  Imaus,  parallel  to  which,  farther  south, 
runs  the  Himalaya  chain.  Towards  the  East,  a  mountain 
chain  running  from  South  to  North,  parts  off  the  basin  of  the 
Amur.  On  the  North  lie  the  Altai  and  Songarian  mountains ; 
in  connection  with  the  latter,  in  the  Northwest  the  Musart  and 
in  the  West  the  Belur  Tag,  which  by  the  Hindoo  Coosh  chain 
are  again  united  with  the  Mus-Tag. 

This  high  mountain-girdle  is  broken  through  by  streams, 
which  are  dammed  up  and  form  great  valley  plains.  These, 
more  or  less  inundated,  present  centres  of  excessive  luxuriance 
and  fertility,  and  are  distinguished  from  the  European  river  dis- 
tricts in  their  not  forming,  as  those  do,  proper  valleys  with  val- 
leys branching  out  from  them,  but  river-plains.  Of  this  kind 
are — the  Chinese  Valley  Plain,  formed  by  the  Hoang-Ho  and 
Yang-tse-Kiang  (the  yellow  and  blue  streams) — next  that  of 
India,  formed  by  the  Ganges ; — less  important  is  the  Indus, 
which  in  the  north,  gives  character  to  the  Punjaub,  and  in  the 
south  flows  through  plains  of  sand.  Farther  on,  the  lands  of 
the  Tigris  and  Euphrates,  which  rise  in  Armenia  and  hold  their 
course  along  the  Persian  mountains.  The  Caspian  sea  has 
similar  river  valleys  ;  in  the  East  those  formed  by  the  Oxus  and 
Jaxartes  (Gihon  and  Sihon)  which  pour  their  waters  into  the 
Sea  of  Aral ;  on  the  West  those  of  the  Cyrus  and  Araxes  (Kur 
and  Aras). — The  Upland  and  the  Plains  must  be  distinguished 
from  each  other ;  the  third  element  is  their  intermixture,  which 
occurs  in  Hither  [Anterior]  Asia.  To  this  belongs  Arabia,  the 
land  of  the  Desert,  the  upland  of  plains,  the  empire  of  fanaticism. 
To  this  belong  Syria  and  Asia  Minor,  connected  with  the  sea, 
and  having  constant  intercourse  with  Europe. 

In  regard  to  Asia  the  remark  above  offered  respecting  geo- 
graphical differences  is  especially  true ;  viz.  that  the  rearing  of 
cattle  is  the  business  of  the  Upland — agriculture  and  industrial 

pursuits  that  of  the  valley-plains — while  commerce  and  naviga* 
DEPARTMENT  OF  RELIGION 
101  SAUNDERS  HALL 
UNIVERSITY  OF  NORTH  CAROLINA 
CHAPEL  HILL.  NORTH  CAROLINA     27514 


INTRODUCTION  101 

tion  form  the  third  and  last  item.  Patriarchal  independence  is 
strictly  bound  up  with  the  first  condition  of  society ;  property 
and  the  relation  of  lord  and  serf  with  the  second ;  civil  freedom 
with  the  third.  In  the  Upland,  where  the  various  kinds  of  cat- 
tle breeding,  the  rearing  of  horses,  camels,  and  sheep,  (not  so 
much  of  oxen)  deserve  attention,  we  must  also  distinguish  the 
calm  habitual  life  of  nomad  tribes  from  the  wild  and  restless 
character  they  display  in  their  conquests.  These  people,  with- 
out developing  themselves  in  a  really  historical  form,  are  swayed 
by  a  powerful  impulse  leading  them  to  change  their  aspect  as 
nations  ;  and  although  they  have  not  attained  an  historical  char- 
acter, the  beginning  of  History  may  be  traced  to  them.  It  must 
however  be  allowed  that  the  peoples  of  the  plains  are  more  in- 
teresting. In  agriculture  itself  is  involved,  ipso  facto,  the  ces- 
sation of  a  roving  life.  It  demands  foresight  and  solicitude  for 
the  future :  reflection  on  a  general  idea  is  thus  awakened ;  and 
herein  lies  the  principle  of  property  and  productive  industry. 
China,  India,  Babylonia,  have  risen  to  the  position  of  cultivated 
lands  of  this  kind.  But  as  the  peoples  that  have  occupied  these 
lands  have  been  shut  up  within  themselves,  and  have  not  ap- 
propriated that  element  of  civilization  which  the  sea  supplies, 
(or  at  any  rate  only  at  the  commencement  of  their  civilization) 
and  as  their  navigation  of  it — to  whatever  extent  it  may  have 
taken  place — remained  without  influence  on  their  culture — a  re- 
lation to  the  rest  of  History  could  only  exist  in  their  case, 
through  their  being  sought  out,  and  their  character  investigated 
by  others.  The  mountain-girdle  of  the  upland,  the  upland  itself, 
and  the  river-plains,  characterize  Asia  physically  and  spiritu- 
ally: but  they  themselves  are  not  concretely,  really,  historical 
elements.  The  opposition  between  the  extremes  is  simply  rec- 
ognized, not  harmonized  ;  a  firm  settlement  in  the  fertile  plains 
is  for  the  mobile,  restless,  roving,  condition  of  the  mountain 
and  Upland  races,  nothing  more  than  a  constant  object  of  en- 
deavor. Physical  features  distinct  in  the  sphere  of  nature,  as- 
sume an  essential  historical  relation. — Anterior  Asia  has  both 
elements  in  one,  and  has,  consequently,  a  relation  to  Europe; 
for  what  is  most  remarkable  in  it,  this  land  has  not  kept  for 
itself,  but  sent  over  to  Europe.  It  presents  the  origination  of  all 
religious  and  political  principles,  but  Europe  has  been  the  scene 
of  their  development. 

Europe,  to  which  we  now  come,  has  not  the  physical  varies 


io2  PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 

ties  which  we  noticed  in  Asia  and  Africa.  The  European  char- 
acter involves  the  disappearance  of  the  contrast  exhibited  by 
earlier  varieties,  or  at  least  a  modification  of  it ;  so  that  we  have 
the  milder  qualities  of  a  transition  state.  We  have  in  Europe  no 
uplands  immediately  contrasted  with  plains.  The  three  sec- 
tions of  Europe  require  therefore  a  different  basis  of  classifica- 
tion. 

The  first  part  is  Southern  Europe — looking  towards  the 
Mediterranean.  North  of  the  Pyrenees,  mountain-chains  run 
through  France,  connected  with  the  Alps  that  separate  and  cut 
off  Italy  from  France  and  Germany.  Greece  also  belongs  to 
this  part  of  Europe.  Greece  and  Italy  long  presented  the  thea- 
tre of  the  World's  History ;  and  while  the  middle  and  north  of 
Europe  were  uncultivated,  the  World-Spirit  found  its  home 
here. 

The  second  portion  is  the  heart  of  Europe,  which  Caesar 
opened  when  conquering  Gaul.  This  achievement  was  one  of 
manhood  on  the  part  of  the  Roman  General,  and  more  produc- 
tive than  that  youthful  one  of  Alexander,  who  undertook  to 
exalt  the  East  to  a  participation  in  Greek  life  ;  and  whose  work, 
though  in  its  purport  the  noblest  and  fairest  for  the  imagination, 
soon  vanished,  as  a  mere  Ideal,  in  the  sequel. — In  this  centre 
of  Europe,  France,  Germany,  and  England  are  the  principal 
countries. 

Lastly,  the  third  part  consists  of  the  north-eastern  States  of 
Europe — Poland,  Russia,  and  the  Slavonic  Kingdoms.  They 
come  only  late  into  the  series  of  historical  States,  and  form  and 
perpetuate  the  connection  with  Asia.  In  contrast  with  the 
physical  peculiarities  of  the  earlier  divisions,  these  are,  as  al- 
ready noticed,  not  present  in  a  remarkable  degree,  but  counter- 
balance each  other. 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  HISTORIC   DATA 

IN  the  geographical  survey,  the  course  of  the  World's  His« 
tory  has  been  marked  out  in  its  general  features.  The 
Sun — the  Light — rises  in  the  East.  Light  is  a  simply  self- 
involved  existence;  but  though  possessing  thus  in  itself  uni- 
versality, it  exists  at  the  same  time  as  an  individuality  in  the 
Sun.  Imagination  has  often  pictured  to  itself  the  emotions 
of  a  blind  man  suddenly  becoming  possessed  of  sight,  behold- 
ing the  bright  glimmering  of  the  dawn,  the  growing  light,  and 
the  flaming  glory  of  the  ascending  Sun.  The  boundless  for- 
getfulness  of  his  individuality  in  this  pure  splendor,  is  his  first 
feeling — utter  astonishment.  But  when  the  Sun  is  risen,  this 
astonishment  is  diminished ;  objects  around  are  perceived,  and 
from  them  the  individual  proceeds  to  the  contemplation  of  his 
own  inner  being,  and  thereby  the  advance  is  made  to  the  per- 
ception of  the  relation  between  the  two.  Then  inactive  con- 
templation is  quitted  for  activity;  by  the  close  of  day  man  has 
erected  a  building  constructed  from  his  own  inner  Sun;  and 
when  in  the  evening  he  contemplates  this,  he  esteems  it  more 
highly  than  the  original  external  Sun.  For  now  he  stands  in  a 
conscious  relation  to  his  Spirit,  and  therefore  a  free  relation. 
If  we  hold  this  image  fast  in  mind,  we  shall  find  it  symbolizing 
the  course  of  History,  the  great  Day's  work  of  Spirit. 

The  History  of  the  World  travels  from  East  to  West,  for 
Europe  is  absolutely  the  end  of  History,  Asia  the  beginning. 
The  History  of  the  World  has  an  East  tear  e^o^nv ;  (the  term 
East  in  itself  is  entirely  relative),  for  although  the  Earth  forms 
a  sphere,  History  performs  no  circle  round  it,  but  has  on  the 
contrary  a  determinate  East,  viz.,  Asia.  Here  rises  the  outward 
physical  Sun,  and  in  the  West  it  sinks  down :  here  consentane- 
ously rises  the  Sun  of  self-consciousness,  which  diffuses  a 

103 


104  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

nobler  brilliance.  The  History  of  the  World  is  the  discipline 
of  the  uncontrolled  natural  will,  bringing  it  into  obedience  to 
a  Universal  principle  and  conferring  subjective  freedom.  The 
East  knew  and  to  the  present  day  knows  only  that  One  is  Free ; 
the  Greek  and  Roman  world,  that  some  are  free;  the  German 
World  knows  that  All  are  free.  The  first  political  form  there- 
fore which  we  observe  in  History,  is  Despotism,  the  second 
Democracy  and  Aristocracy,  the  third  Monarchy. 

To  understand  this  division  we  must  remark  that  as  the 
State  is  the  universal  spiritual  life,  to  which  individuals  by 
birth  sustain  a  relation  of  confidence  and  habit,  and  in  which 
they  have  their  existence  and  reality — the  first  question  is, 
whether  their  actual  life  is  an  unreflecting  use  and  habit  com- 
bining them  in  this  unity,  or  whether  its  constituent  individuals 
are  reflective  and  personal  beings  having  a  properly  subjective 
and  independent  existence.  In  view  of  this,  substantial  [objec- 
tive] freedom  must  be  distinguished  from  subjective  freedom. 
Substantial  freedom  is  the  abstract  undeveloped  Reason  im- 
plicit in  volition,  proceeding  to  develop  itself  in  the  State.  But 
in  this  phase  of  Reason  there  is  still  wanting  personal  insight 
and  will,  that  is,  subjective  freedom;  which  is  realized  only 
in  the  Individual,  and  which  constitutes  the  reflection  of  the 
Individual  in  his  own  conscience.*  Where  there  is  merely 
substantial  freedom,  commands  and  laws  are  regarded  as  some- 
thing fixed  and  abstract,  to  which  the  subject  holds  himself  in 
absolute  servitude.  These  laws  need  not  concur  with  the  desire 
of  the  individual,  and  the  subjects  are  consequently  like  chil- 
dren, who  obey  their  parents  without  will  or  insight  of  their 
own.  But  as  subjective  freedom  arises,  and  man  descends  from 
the  contemplation  of  external  reality  into  his  own  soul,  the 
contrast  suggested  by  reflection  arises,  involving  the  Negation 
of  Reality.  The  drawing  back  from  the  actual  world  forms 
ipso  facto  an  antithesis,  of  which  one  side  is  the  absolute  Being 
— the  Divine — the  other  the  human  subject  as  an  individual. 
In  that  immediate,  unreflected  consciousness  which  character- 

*  The  essence  of  Spirit  is  self-determin-  or  several),  and  obeys  it  as  if  it  were  an 

ation  or  "  Freedom.       Where  Spirit  has  alien,  extraneous  force,  not  the  voice  of 

attained  mature  growth,  as  in  the  man  that  Spirit  of  which  he  himself  (though 

who  acknowledges  the  absolute  validity  at  this  stage  imperfectly)   is  an  embodi- 

of  the  dictates  of  Conscience,  the  Indi-  ment.    The   Philosophy   of    History   ex- 

vidual  is  "  a  law  to  himself,"  and  this  hibits  the  successive  stages  by  which  he 

Freedom    is    "  realized."    But    in   lower  reaches  the  consciousness,  that  it  is  Ml 

stages   of   morality   and   civilization,   he  own  inmost  being  that  thus  governs  him 

unconsciously  projects  this  legislative  prin-  — i.e.  a  consciousness  of  seTf-determinat 

ciple  into  some     governing  power  "  (one  tion  or  "  Freedom," — Ed. 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  HISTORIC  DATA  105 

izes  the  East,  these  two  are  not  yet  distinguished.  The  sub- 
stantial world  is  distinct  from  the  individual,  but  the  antithesis 
has  not  yet  created  a  schism  between  (absolute  and  subjective) 
Spirit. 

The  first  phase — that  with  which  we  have  to  begin — is  the 
East.  Unreflected  consciousness — substantial,  objective,  spir- 
itual existence — forms  the  basis;  to  which  the  subjective  will 
first  sustains  a  relation  in  the  form  of  faith,  confidence,  obedi- 
ence. In  the  political  life  of  the  East  we  find  a  realized  rational 
freedom,  developing  itself  without  advancing  to  subjective  free- 
dom. It  is  the  childhood  of  History.  Substantial  forms  consti- 
tute the  gorgeous  edifices  of  Oriental  Empires  in  which  we  find 
all  rational  ordinances  and  arrangements,  but  in  such  a  way, 
that  individuals  remain  as  mere  accidents.  These  revolve  round 
a  centre,  round  the  sovereign,  who,  as  patriarch — not  as  despot 
in  the  sense  of  the  Roman  Imperial  Constitution — stands  at  the 
head.  For  he  has  to  enforce  the  moral  and  substantial :  he  has 
to  uphold  those  essential  ordinances  which  are  already  estab- 
lished; so  that  what  among  us  belongs  entirely  to  subjective 
freedom,  here  proceeds  from  the  entire  and  general  body  of 
the  State.  The  glory  of  Oriental  conception  is  the  One  Indi- 
vidual as  that  substantial  being  to  which  all  belongs,  so  that 
no  other  individual  has  a  separate, existence,  or  mirrors  himself 
in  his  subjective  freedom.  All  the  riches  of  imagination  and 
Nature  are  appropriated  to  that  dominant  existence  in  which 
subjective  freedom  is  essentially  merged ;  the  latter  looks  for 
its  dignity  not  in  itself,  but  in  that  absolute  object.  All  the 
elements  of  a  complete  State — even  subjectivity — may  be  found 
there,  but  not  yet  harmonized  with  the  grand  substantial  being. 
For  outside  the  One  Power — before  which  nothing  can  main- 
tain an  independent  existence — there  is  only  revolting  caprice, 
which,  beyond  the  limits  of  the  central  power,  roves  at  will 
without  purpose  or  result.  Accordingly  we  find  the  wild  hordes 
breaking  out  from  the  Upland — falling  upon  the  countries  in 
question,  and  laying  them  waste,  or  settling  down  in  them,  and 
giving  up  their  wild  life;  but  in  all  cases  resultlessly  lost  in 
the  central  substance.  This  phase  of  Substantiality,  since  it  has 
not  taken  up  its  antithesis  into  itself  and  overcome  it,  directly 
divides  itself  into  two  elements.  On  the  one  side  we  see  dura- 
tion, stability — Empires  belonging  to  mere  space,  as  it  were 
(as  distinguished  from  Time) — unhistorical  History; — as  for 


106  PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 

example,  in  China,  the  State  based  on  the  Family  relation; — 
a  paternal  Government,  which  holds  together  the  constitution 
by  its  provident  care,  its  admonitions,  retributive  or  rather 
disciplinary  inflictions ; — a  prosaic  Empire,  because  the  antith- 
esis of  Form,  viz.,  Infinity,  Ideality,  has  not  yet  asserted  itself. 
On  the  other  side,  the  Form  of  Time  stands  contrasted  with 
this  spatial  stability.  The  States  in  question,  without  under- 
going any  change  in  themselves,  or  in  the  principle  of  their 
existence,  are  constantly  changing  their  position  towards  each 
other.  They  are  in  ceaseless  conflict,  which  brings  on  rapid 
destruction.  The  opposing  principle  of  individuality  enters  into 
these  conflicting  relations;  but  it  is  itself  as  yet  only  uncon- 
scious, merely  natural  Universality — Light,  which  is  not  yet 
the  light  of  the  personal  soul.  This  History,  too  (i.e.,  of  the 
struggles  before-mentioned)  is,  for  the  most  part,  really  unhis- 
torical,  for  it  is  only  the  repetition  of  the  same  majestic  ruin. 
The  new  element,  which  in  the  shape  of  bravery,  prowess,  mag- 
nanimity, occupies  the  place  of  the  previous  despotic  pomp, 
goes  through  the  same  circle  of  decline  and  subsidence.  This 
subsidence  is  therefore  not  really  such,  for  through  all  this  rest- 
less change  no  advance  is  made.  History  passes  at  this  point — 
and  only  outwardly,  i.e.,  without  connection  with  the  previous 
phase — to  Central  Asia.  Continuing  the  comparison  with  the 
ages  of  the  individual  man,  this  would  be  the  boyhood  of  His- 
tory, no  longer  manifesting  the  repose  and  trustingness  of  the 
child,  but  boisterous  and  turbulent.  The  Greek  World  may  then 
be  compared  with  the  period  of  adolescence,  for  here  we  have 
individualities  forming  themselves.  This  is  the  second  main 
principle  in  human  History.  Morality  is,  as  in  Asia,  a  prin- 
ciple ;  but  it  is  morality  impressed  on  individuality,  and  conse- 
quently denoting  the  free  volition  of  Individuals.  Here,  then, 
is  the  Union  of  the  Moral  with  the  subjective  Will,  or  the 
Kingdom  of  Beautiful  Freedom,  for  the  Idea  is  united  with 
a  plastic  form.  It  is  not  yet  regarded  abstractedly,  but  imme- 
diately bound  up  with  the  Real,  as  in  a  beautiful  work  of  Art; 
the  Sensuous  bears  the  stamp  and  expression  of  the  Spiritual. 
This  Kingdom  is  consequently  true  Harmony ;  the  world  of 
the  most  charming,  but  perishable  or  quickly  passing  bloom: 
it  is  the  natural,  unreflecting  observance  of  what  is  becoming — 
not  yet  true  Morality.  The  individual  will  of  the  Subject 
adopts  unreflectingly  the  conduct  and  habit  prescribed  by  Jus- 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  HISTORIC  DATA  107 

tice  and  the  Laws.  The  Individual  is  therefore  in  uncon- 
scious unity  with  the  Idea — the  social  weal.  That  which  in  the 
East  is  divided  into  two  extremes — the  substantial  as  such,  and 
the  individuality  absorbed  in  it — meets  here.  But  these  distinct 
principles  are  only  immediately  in  unity,  and  consequently  in- 
volve the  highest  degree  of  contradiction ;  for  this  aesthetic 
Morality  has  not  yet  passed  through  the  struggle  of  subjective 
freedom,  in  its  second  birth,  its  palingenesis;  it  is  not  yet  puri- 
fied to  the  standard  of  the  free  subjectivity  that  is  the  essence 
of  true  morality. 

The  third  phase  is  the  realm  of  abstract  Universality  (in 
which  the  Social  aim  absorbs  all  individual  aims)  :  it  is  the 
Roman  State,  the  severe  labors  of  the  Manhood  of  History. 
For  true  manhood  acts  neither  in  accordance  with  the  caprice 
of  a  despot,  nor  in  obedience  to  a  graceful  caprice  of  its  own; 
but  works  for  a  general  aim,  one  in  which  the  individual  per- 
ishes and  realizes  his  own  private  object  only  in  that  general 
aim.  The  State  begins  to  have  an  abstract  existence,  and  to 
develop  itself  for  a  definite  object,  in  accomplishing  which  its 
members  have  indeed  a  share,  but  not  a  complete  and  concrete 
one  [calling  their  whole  being  into  play] .  Free  individuals  are 
sacrificed  to  the  severe  demands  of  the  National  objects,  to 
which  they  must  surrender  themselves  in  this  service  of  abstract 
generalization.  The  Roman  State  is  not  a  repetition  of  such 
a  State  of  Individuals  as  the  Athenian  Polis  was.  The  genial- 
ity and  joy  of  soul  that  existed  there  have  given  place  to  harsh 
and  rigorous  toil.  The  interest  of  History  is  detached  from 
individuals,  but  these  gain  for  themselves  abstract,  formal 
Universality.  The  Universal  subjugates  the  individuals  ;  they 
have  to  merge  their  own  interests  in  it ;  but  in  return  the  ab- 
straction which  they  themselves  embody — that  is  to  say,  their 
personality — is  recognized:  in  their  individual  capacity  they 
become  persons  with  definite  rights  as  such.  In  the  same  sense 
as  individuals  may  be  said  to  be  incorporated  in  the  abstract 
idea  of  Person,  National  Individualities  (those  of  the  Roman 
Provinces)  have  also  to  experience  this  fate:  in  this  form  of 
Universality  their  concrete  forms  are  crushed,  and  incorporated 
with  it  as  a  homogeneous  and  indifferent  mass.  Rome  be- 
comes a  Pantheon  of  all  deities,  and  of  all  Spiritual  existence, 
but  these  divinities  and  this  Spirit  do  not  retain  their  proper 

vitality. — The  development  of  the  State  in  question  proceeds 
Vol.  23  F — Classics 


108  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

in  two  directions.  On  the  one  hand,  as  based  on  reflection- 
abstract  Universality — it  has  the  express  outspoken  antithesis 
in  itself:  it  therefore  essentially  involves  in  itself  the  struggle 
which  that  antithesis  supposes;  with  the  necessary  issue,  that 
individual  caprice — the  purely  contingent  and  thoroughly 
worldly  power  of  one  despot — gets  the  better  of  that  abstract 
universal  principle.  At  the  very  outset  we  have  the  antithesis 
between  the  Aim  of  the  State  as  the  abstract  universal  principle 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  abstract  personality  of  the  individual 
on  the  other  hand.  But  when  subsequently,  in  the  historical 
development,  individuality  gains  the  ascendant,  and  the  break- 
ing up  of  the  community  into  its  component  atoms  can  only  be 
restrained  by  external  compulsion,  then  the  subjective  might  of 
individual  despotism  comes  forward  to  play  its  part,  as  if  sum- 
moned to  fulfil  this  task.  For  the  mere  abstract  compliance 
with  Law  implies  on  the  part  of  the  subject  of  law  the  supposi- 
tion that  he  has  not  attained  to  self-organization  and  self-con- 
trol ;  and  this  principle  of  obedience,  instead  of  being  hearty  and 
voluntary,  has  for  its  motive  and  ruling  power  only  the  arbi- 
trary and  contingent  disposition  of  the  individual ;  so  that  the 
latter  is  led  to  seek  consolation  for  the  loss  of  his  freedom  in 
exercising  and  developing  his  private  right.  This  is  the  purely 
zvorldly  harmonization  of  the  antithesis.  But  in  the  next  place, 
the  pain  inflicted  by  Despotism  begins  to  be  felt,  and  Spirit 
driven  back  into  its  utmost  depths,  leaves  the  godless  world, 
seeks  for  a  harmony  in  itself,  and  begins  now  an  inner  life — 
a  complete  concrete  subjectivity,  which  possesses  at  the  same 
time  a  substantiality  that  is  not  grounded  in  mere  external  ex- 
istence. Within  the  soul  therefore  arises  the  Spiritual  pacifica- 
tion of  the  struggle,  in  the  fact  that  the  individual  personality, 
instead  of  following  its  own  capricious  choice,  is  purified  and 
elevated  into  universality ; — a  subjectivity  that  of  its  own  free 
will  adopts  principles  tending  to  the  good  of  all — reaches,  in 
fact,  a  divine  personality.  To  that  worldly  empire,  this  Spir- 
itual one  wears  a  predominant  aspect  of  opposition,  as  the  em- 
pire of  a  subjectivity  that  has  attained  to  the  knowledge  of 
itself — itself  in  its  essential  nature—the  Empire  of  Spirit  in 
its  full  sense. 

The  German  world  appears  at  this  point  of  development — 
the  fourth  phase  oi  World-History.  This  would  answer  in  the 
comparison  with  the  periods  of  human  life  to  its  Old  Age.  The 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  HISTORIC  DATA  109 

Old  Age  of  Nature  is  weakness ;  but  that  of  Spirit  is  its  perfect 
maturity  and  strength,  in  which  it  returns  to  unity  with  itself, 
but  in  its  fully  developed  character  as  Spirit. — This  fourth 
phase  begins  with  the  Reconciliation  presented  in  Christianity ; 
but  only  in  the  germ,  without  national  or  political  development. 
We  must  therefore  regard  it  as  commencing  rather  with  the 
enormous  contrast  between  the  spiritual,  religious  principle, 
and  the  barbarian  Real  World.  For  Spirit  as  the  consciousness 
of  an  inner  World  is,  at  the  commencement,  itself  still  in  an 
abstract  form.  All  that  is  secular  is  consequently  given  over 
to  rudeness  and  capricious  violence.  The  Mohammedan  prin- 
ciple— the  enlightenment  of  the  Oriental  World — is  the  first  to 
contravene  this  barbarism  and  caprice.  We  find  it  developing 
itself  later  and  more  rapidly  than  Christianity;  for  the  latter 
needed  eight  centuries  to  grow  up  into  a  political  form.  But 
that  principle  of  the  German  World  which  we  are  now  dis- 
cussing, attained  concrete  reality  only  in  the  history  of  the 
German  Nations.  The  contrast  of  the  Spiritual  principle 
animating  the  Ecclesiastical  State,  with  the  rough  and  wild 
barbarism  of  the  Secular  State,  is  here  likewise  present. 
The  Secular  ought  to  be  in  harmony  with  the  Spiritual  prin- 
ciple, but  we  find  nothing  more  than  the  recognition  of  that 
obligation.  The  Secular  power  forsaken  by  the  Spirit,  must 
in  the  first  instance  vanish  in  presence  of  the  Ecclesiastical  (as 
representative  of  Spirit)  ;  but  while  this  latter  degrades  itself 
to  mere  secularity,  it  loses  its  influence  with  the  loss  of  its 
proper  character  and  vocation.  From  this  corruption  of  the 
Ecclesiastical  element — that  is,  of  the  Church — results  the 
higher  form  of  rational  thought.  Spirit  once  more  driven  back 
upon  itself,  produces  its  work  in  an  intellectual  shape,  and  be- 
comes capable  of  realizing  the  Ideal  of  Reason  from  the  Sec- 
ular principle  alone.  Thus  it  happens,  that  in  virtue  of  ele- 
ments of  Universality,  which  have  the  principle  of  Spirit  as 
their  basis,  the  empire  of  Thought  is  established  actually  and 
concretely.  The  antithesis  of  Church  and  State  vanishes.  The 
Spiritual  becomes  reconnected  with  the  Secular,  and  develops 
this  latter  as  an  independently  organic  existence.  The  State 
no  longer  occupies  a  position  of  real  inferiority  to  the  Church, 
and  is  no  longer  subordinate  to  it.  The  latter  asserts  no  pre- 
rogative, and  the  Spiritual  is  no  longer  an  element  foreign  to 
the  State.    Freedom  has  found  the  means  of  realizing  its  Ideal 


no  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

— its  true  existence.  This  is  the  ultimate  result  which  the 
process  of  History  is  intended  to  accomplish,  and  we  have  to 
traverse  in  detail  the  long  track  which  has  been  thus  cursorily 
traced  out.  Yet  length  of  Time  is  something  entirely  relative, 
and  the  element  of  Spirit  is  Eternity.  Duration,  properly 
speaking,  cannot  be  said  to  belong  to  it. 


PART  I 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD 

WE  have  to  begin  with  the  Oriental  World,  but  not  be- 
fore the  period  in  which  we  discover  States  in  it. 
The  diffusion  of  Language  and  the  formation  of 
races  lie  beyond  the  limits  of  History.  History  is  prose,  and 
myths  fall  short  of  History.  The  consciousness  of  external 
definite  existence  only  arises  in  connection  with  the  power  to 
form  abstract  distinctions  and  assign  abstract  predicates ;  and 
in  proportion  as  a  capacity  for  expressing  Laws  (of  natural  or 
social  life)  is  acquired,  in  the  same  proportion  does  the  ability 
manifest  itself  to  comprehend  objects  in  an  unpoetical  form. 
While  the  ante-historical  is  that  which  precedes  political  life, 
it  also  lies  beyond  self-cognizant  life;  though  surmises  and 
suppositions  may  be  entertained  respecting  that  period,  these 
do  not  amount  to  facts.  The  Oriental  World  has  as  its  inherent 
and  distinctive  principle  the  Substantial  (the  Prescriptive),  in 
Morality.  We  have  the  first  example  of  a  sub j Ligation  of  the 
mere  arbitrary  will,  which  is  merged  in  this  substantiality. 
Moral  distinctions  and  requirements  are  expressed  as  Laws, 
but  so  that  the  subjective  will  is  governed  by  these  Laws  as  by 
an  external  force.  Nothing  sLibjective  in  the  shape  of  disposi- 
tion, Conscience,  formal  Freedom,  is  recognized.  Justice  is 
administered  only  on  the  basis  of  external  morality,  and 
Government  exists  only  as  the  prerogative  of  compulsion. 
Our  civil  law  contains  indeed  some  purely  compulsory  ordi- 
nances. I  can  be  compelled  to  give  up  another  man's  property, 
or  to  keep  an  agreement  which  I  have  made ;  but  the  Moral 
is  not  placed  by  us  in  the  mere  compulsion,  but  in  the  disposition 
of  the  subjects — their  sympathy  with  the  requirements  of  law. 
Morality  is  in  the  East  likewise  a  subject  of  positive  legislation, 
and  although  the  moral  prescriptions   (the  substance  of  their 


H2  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

Ethics)  may  be  perfect,  what  should  be  internal  subjective  sen- 
timent is  made  a  matter  of  external  arrangement.  There  is 
no  want  of  a  will  to  command  moral  actions,  but  of  a  will  to 
perform  them  because  commanded  from  within.  Since  Spirit 
has  not  yet  attained  subjectivity,  it  wears  the  appearance  of 
spirituality  still  involved  in  the  conditions  of  Nature.  Since 
the  external  and  the  internal,  Law  and  Moral  Sense,  are  not 
yet  distinguished — still  form  an  undivided  unity — so  also  do 
Religion  and  the  State.  The  Constitution  generally  is  a  Theoc- 
racy, and  the  Kingdom  of  God  is  to  the  same  extent  also  a 
secular  Kingdom  as  the  secular  Kingdom  is  also  divine.  What 
we  call  God  has  not  yet  in  the  East  been  realized  in  conscious- 
ness, for  our  idea  of  God  involves  an  elevation  of  the  soul  to 
the  supersensual.  While  we  obey,  because  what  we  are  re- 
quired to  do  is  confirmed  by  an  internal  sanction,  there  the  Law 
is  regarded  as  inherently  and  absolutely  valid  without  a  sense 
of  the  want  of  this  subjective  confirmation.  In  the  law  men 
recognize  not  their  own  will,  but  one  entirely  foreign. 

Of  the  several  parts  of  Asia  we  have  already  eliminated  as 
unhistorical,  Upper  Asia  (so  far  and  so  long  as  its  Nomad 
population  do  not  appear  on  the  scene  of  history),  and  Siberia. 
The  rest  of  the  Asiatic  World  is  divided  into  four  districts: 
first,  the  River- Plains,  formed  by  the  Yellow  and  Blue  Stream, 
and  the  Upland  of  farther  Asia — China  and  the  Mongols.  Sec- 
ondly, the  valley  of  the  Ganges  and  that  of  the  Indus.  The 
third  theatre  of  History  comprises  the  river-plains  of  the  Oxus 
and  Jaxartes,  the  Upland  of  Persia,  and  the  other  valley-plains 
of  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris,  to  which  Hither-Asia  attaches 
itself.    Fourthly,  the  River-plain  of  the  Nik. 

With  China  and  the  Mongols — the  realm  of  theocratic  des- 
potism— History  begins.  Both  have  the  patriarchal  constitu- 
tion for  their  principle — so  modified  in  China,  as  to  admit  the 
development  of  an  organized  system  of  secular  polity ;  while 
among  the  Mongols  it  limits  itself  to  the  simple  form  of  a 
spiritual,  religious  sovereignty.  In  China  the  Monarch  is  Chief 
as  Patriarch.  The  laws  of  the  state  are  partly  civil  ordinances, 
partly  moral  requirements ;  so  that  the  internal  law — the  knowl- 
edge on  the  part  of  the  individual  of  the  nature  of  his  volition, 
as  his  own  inmost  self — even  this  is  the  subject  of  external 
statutory  enactment.  The  sphere  of  subjectivity  does  not  then, 
attain  to  maturity  here,  since  moral  laws  are  treated  as  legisla- 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  113 

tive  enactments,  and  law  on  its  part  has  an  ethical  aspect.  All 
that  we  call  subjectivity  is  concentrated  in  the  supreme  head  of 
the  State,  who,  in  all  his  legislation  has  an  eye  to  the  health, 
wealth,  and  benefit  of  the  whole.  Contrasted  with  this  secular 
Empire  is  the  spiritual  sovereignty  of  the  Mongols,  at  the  head 
of  which  stands  the  Lama,  who  is  honored  as  God.  In  this 
Spiritual  Empire  no  secular  political  life  can  be  developed. 

In  the  second  phase — the  Indian  realm — we  see  the  unity 
of  political  organization — a  perfect  civil  machinery,  such  as 
exists  in  China — in  the  first  instance,  broken  up.  The  several 
powers  of  society  appear  as  dissevered  and  free  in  relation  to 
each  other.  The  different  castes  are  indeed,  fixed ;  but  in  view 
of  the  religious  doctrine  that  established  them,  they  wear  the 
aspect  of  natural  distinctions.  Individuals  are  thereby  still 
further  stripped  of  proper  personality — although  it  might  ap- 
pear as  if  they  derived  gain  from  the  development  of  the  dis- 
tinctions in  question.  For  though  we  find  the  organization 
of  the  State  no  longer,  as  in  China,  determined  and  arranged 
by  the  one  all-absorbing  personality  (the  head  of  the  State) 
the  distinctions  that  exist  are  attributed  to  Nature,  and  so  be- 
come differences  of  Caste.  The  unity  in  which  these  divisions 
must  finally  meet,  is  a  religious  one;  and  thus  arises  Theo- 
cratic Aristocracy  and  its  despotism.  Here  begins,  therefore, 
the  distinction  between  the  spiritual  consciousness  and  secular 
conditions;  but  as  the  separation  implied  in  the  above  men- 
tioned distinctions  is  the  cardinal  consideration,  so  also  we  find 
in  the  religion  the  principle  of  the  isolation  of  the  constituent 
elements  of  the  Idea; — a  principle  which  posits  the  harshest 
antithesis — the  conception  of  the  purely  abstract  unity  of  God, 
and  of  the  purely  sensual  Powers  of  Nature.  The  connection 
of  the  two  is  only  a  constant  change — a  restless  hurrying  from 
one  extreme  to  the  other — a  wild  chaos  of  fruitless  variation, 
which  must  appear  as  madness  to  a  duly  regulated,  intelligent 
consciousness. 

The  third  important  form — presenting  a  contrast  to  the  im- 
movable unity  of  China  and  to  the  wild  and  turbulent  unrest 
of  India — is  the  Persian  Realm.  China  is  quite  peculiarly  Ori- 
ental ;  India  we  might  compare  with  Greece ;  Persia  on  the 
other  hand  with  Rome.  In  Persia  namely,  the  Theocratic 
power  appears  as  a  Monarchy.  Now  Monarchy  is  that  kind 
of  constitution  which  does  indeed  unite  the  members  of  the 


Ii4  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

body  politic  in  the  head  of  the  government  as  in  a  point ;  but 
regards  that  head  neither  as  the  absolute  director  nor  the  arbi- 
trary ruler,  but  as  a  power  whose  will  is  regulated  by  the  same 
principle  of  law  as  the  obedience  of  the  subject.  We  have  thus 
a  general  principle,  a  Law,  lying  at  the  basis  of  the  whole,  but 
which,  still  regarded  as  a  dictum  of  mere  Nature  (not  as  free 
and  absolute  Truth)  is  clogged  by  an  antithesis  (that  of  formal 
freedom  on  the  part  of  man  as  commanded  to  obey  positive 
alien  requirements).  The  representation,  therefore,  which 
Spirit  makes  of  itself  is,  at  this  grade  of  progress,  of  a  purely 
natural  kind — Light.  This  Universal  principle  is  as  much  a 
regulative  one  for  the  monarch  as  for  each  of  his  subjects, 
and  the  Persian  Spirit  is  accordingly  clear,  illuminated — the 
idea  of  a  people  living  in  pure  morality,  as  in  a  sacred  com- 
munity. But  this  has  on  the  one  hand  as  a  merely  natural 
Ecclesia,  the  above  antithesis  still  unreconciled ;  and  its  sanc- 
tity displays  the  characteristics  of  a  compulsory,  external  one. 
On  the  other  hand  this  antithesis  is  exhibited  in  Persia  in  its 
being  the  Empire  of  hostile  peoples,  and  the  union  of  the  most 
widely  differing  nations.  The  Persian  Unity  is  not  that  ab- 
stract one  of  the  Chinese  Empire;  it  is  adapted  to  rule  over 
many  and  various  nationalities,  which  it  unites  under  the  mild 
power  of  Universality  as  a  beneficial  Sun  shining  over  all — 
waking  them  into  life  and  cherishing  their  growth.  This  Uni- 
versal principle — occupying  the  position  of  a  root  only — allows 
the  several  members  a  free  growth  for  unrestrained  expansion 
and  ramification.  In  the  organization  of  these  several  peoples, 
the  various  principles  and  forms  of  life  have  full  play  and  con- 
tinue to  exist  together.  We  find  in  this  multitude  of  nations, 
roving  Nomades;  then  we  see  in  Babylonia  and  Syria  com- 
merce and  industrial  pursuits  in  full  vigor,  the  wildest  sensual- 
ity, the  most  uncontrolled  turbulence.  The  coasts  mediate  a 
connection  with  foreign  lands.  In  the  midst  of  this  confusion 
the  spiritual  God  of  the  Jews  arrests  our  attention — like  Brahm, 
existing  only  for  Thought,  yet  jealous  and  excluding  from  his 
being  and  abolishing  all  distinct  speciality  of  manifestations 
[avatars],  such  as  are  freely  allowed  in  other  religions.  This 
Persian  Empire,  then — since  it  can  tolerate  these  several  prin- 
ciples, exhibits  the  Antithesis  in  a  lively  active  form,  and  is 
not  shut  up  within  itself,  abstract  and  calm,  as  are  China  and 
India — makes  a  real  transition  in  the  History  of  the  t  World. 


THE   ORIENTAL  WORLD  115 

If  Persia  forms  the  external  transition  to  Greek  life,  the 
internal,  mental  transition  is  mediated  by  Egypt.  Here  the 
antitheses  in  their  abstract  form  are  broken  through ;  a  break- 
ing through  which  effects  their  nullification.  This  undeveloped 
reconciliation  exhibits  the  struggle  of  the  most  contradictory 
principles,  which  are  not  yet  capable  of  harmonizing  them- 
selves, but,  setting  up  the  birth  of  this  harmony  as  the  prob- 
lem to  be  solved,  make  themselves  a  riddle  for  themselves  and 
for  others,  the  solution  of  which  is  only  to  be  found  in  the 
Greek  World. 

If  we  compare  these  kingdoms  in  the  light  of  their  various 
fates,  we  find  the  empire  of  the  two  Chinese  rivers  the  only 
durable  kingdom  in  the  World.  Conquests  cannot  affect  such 
an  empire.  The  world  of  the  Ganges  and  the  Indus  has  also 
been  preserved.  A  state  of  things  so  destitute  of  (distinct) 
thought  is  likewise  imperishable,  but  it  is  in  its  very  nature 
destined  to  be  mixed  with  other  races — to  be  conquered  and 
subjugated.  While  these  two  realms  have  remained  to  the 
present  day,  of  the  empires  of  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates  on  the 
contrary  nothing  remains,  except,  at  most,  a  heap  of  bricks ; 
for  the  Persian  Kingdom,  as  that  of  Transition,  is  by  nature 
perishable,  and  the  Kingdoms  of  the  Caspian  Sea  are  given  up 
to  the  ancient  struggle  of  Iran  and  Turan.  The  Empire  of  the 
solitary  Nile  is  only  present  beneath  the  ground,  in  its  speech- 
less Dead,  ever  and  anon  stolen  away  to  all  quarters  of  the 
globe,  and  in  their  majestic  habitations; — for  what  remains 
above  ground  is  nothing  else  but  such  splendid  tombs. 


SECTION  I 

CHINA 

WITH  the  Empire  of  China  History  has  to  begin,  for  it 
is  the  oldest,  as  far  as  history  gives  us  any  informa- 
tion ;  and  its  principle  has  such  substantiality,  that  for 
the  empire  in  question  it  is  at  once  the  oldest  and  the  newest. 
Early  do  we  see  China  advancing  to  the  condition  in  which  it 
is  found  at  this  day ;  for  as  the  contrast  between  objective  exist- 
ence and  subjective  freedom  of  movement  in  it,  is  still  wanting, 
every  change  is  excluded,  and  the  fixedness  of  a  character  which 
recurs  perpetually,  takes  the  place  of  what  we  should  call  the 
truly  historical.  China  and  India  lie,  as  it  were,  still  outside  the 
World's  History,  as  the  mere  presupposition  of  elements  whose 
combination  must  be  waited  for  to  constitute  their  vital  prog- 
ress. The  unity  of  substantiality  and  subjective  freedom  so  en- 
tirely excludes  the  distinction  and  contrast  of  the  two  elements, 
that  by  this  very  fact,  substance  cannot  arrive  at  reflection  on 
itself — at  subjectivity.  The  Substantial  [Positive]  in  its  moral 
aspect,  rules  therefore,  not  as  the  moral  disposition  of  the  Sub- 
ject, but  as  the  despotism  of  the  Sovereign. 

No  People  has  a  so  strictly  continuous  series  of  Writers  of 
History  as  the  Chinese.  Other  Asiatic  peoples  also  have  ancient 
traditions,  but  no  History.  The  Vedas  of  the  Indians  are  not 
such.  The  traditions  of  the  Arabs  are  very  old,  but  are  not 
attached  to  a  political  constitution  and  its  development.  But 
such  a  constitution  exists  in  China,  and  that  in  a  distinct  and 
prominent  form.  The  Chinese  traditions  ascend  to  3000  years 
before  Christ ;  and  the  Shu-King,  their  canonical  document,  be- 
ginning with  the  government  of  Yao,  places  this  2357  years 
before  Christ.  It  may  here  be  incidentally  remarked,  that  the 
other  Asiatic  kingdoms  also  reach  a  high  antiquity.  Accord- 
ing to  the  calculation  of  an  English  writer,  the  Egyptian  his- 
tory (e.g.)  reaches  to  2207  years  before  Christ,  the  Assyrian  to 

2221,  the  Indian  to  2204.    Thus  the  traditions  respecting  the 

116 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  117 

principal  kingdoms  of  the  East  reach  to  about  2300  years  be- 
fore the  birth  of  Christ.  Comparing  this  with  the  history  of  the 
Old  Testament,  a  space  of  2400  years,  according  to  the  common 
acceptation,  intervened  between  the  Noachian  Deluge  and  the 
Christian  era.  But  Johannes  von  Muller  has  adduced  weighty 
objections  to  this  number.  He  places  the  Deluge  in  the  year 
3473  before  Christ — thus  about  1000  years  earlier — supporting 
his  view  by  the  Septuagint.  I  remark  this  only  with  the  view 
of  obviating  a  difficulty  that  may  appear  to  arise  when  we  meet 
with  dates  of  a  higher  age  than  2400  years  before  Christ,  and  yet 
find  nothing  about  the  Flood. — The  Chinese  have  certain  an- 
cient canonical  documents,  from  which  their  history,  consti- 
tution, and  religion  can  be  gathered.  The  Vedas  and  the  Mo- 
saic records  are  similar  books ;  as  also  the  Homeric  poems. 
Among  the  Chinese  these  books  are  called  Kings,  and  consti- 
tute the  foundation  of  all  their  studies.  The  Shu-King  contains 
their  history,  treats  of  the  government  of  the  ancient  kings,  and 
gives  the  statutes  enacted  by  this  or  that  monarch.  The  Y-King 
consists  of  figures,  which  have  been  regarded  as  the  bases  of  the 
Chinese  written  character,  and  this  book  is  also  considered  the 
groundwork  of  the  Chinese  Meditation.  For  it  begins  with  the 
abstractions  of  Unity  and  Duality,  and  then  treats  of  the  con- 
crete existences  pertaining  to  these  abstract  forms  of  thought. 
Lastly,  the  Shi-King  is  the  book  of  the  oldest  poems  in  a  great 
variety  of  styles.  The  high  officers  of  the  kingdom  were  an- 
ciently commissioned"  to  bring  with  them  to  the  annual  festival 
all  the  poems  composed  in  their  province  within  the  year.  The 
Emperor  in  full  court  was  the  judge  of  these  poems,  and  those 
recognized  as  good  received  public  approbation.  Besides  these 
three  books  of  archives  which  are  specially  honored  and  studied, 
there  are  besides  two  others,  less  important,  viz.  the  Li-Ki  (or 
Li-King)  which  records  the  customs  and  ceremonial  observ- 
ances pertaining  to  the  Imperial  dignity,  and  that  of  the  State 
functionaries  (with  an  appendix,  Yo-King,  treating  of  music) ; 
and  the  Tshun-tsin,  the  chronicle  of  the  kingdom  Lu,  where 
Confucius  appeared.  These  books  are  the  groundwork  of  the 
history,  the  manners  and  the  laws  of  China. 

This  empire  early  attracted  the  attention  of  Europeans,  al- 
though only  vague  stories  about  it  had  reached  them.  It  was 
always  marvelled  at  as  a  country  which,  self-originated,  ap- 
peared to  have  no  connection  with  the  outer  world. 


n8  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

In  the  thirteenth  century  a  Venetian  (Marco  Polo)  explored 
it  for  the  first  time,  but  his  reports  were  deemed  fabulous.  In 
later  times,  everything  that  he  had  said  respecting  its  extent 
and  greatness  was  entirely  confirmed.  By  the  lowest  calcula- 
tion, China  has  150,000,000  of  inhabitants;  another  makes  the 
number  200,000,000,  and  the  highest  raises  it  even  to  300,000,- 
000.  From  the  far  north  it  stretches  towards  the  south  to  India ; 
on  the  east  it  is  bounded  by  the  vast  Pacific,  and  on  the  west  it 
extends  towards  Persia  and  the  Caspian.  China  Proper  is  over- 
populated.  On  both  rivers,  the  Hoang-ho  and  the  Yang-tse- 
Kiang,  dwell  many  millions  of  human  beings,  living  on  rafts 
adapted  to  all  the  requirements  of  their  mode  of  life.  The  popu- 
lation and  the  thoroughly  organized  State-arrangements,  de- 
scending even  to  the  minutest  details,  have  astonished  Euro- 
peans ;  and  a  matter  of  especial  astonishment  is  the  accuracy 
with  which  their  historical  works  are  executed.  For  in  China 
the  Historians  are  some  of  the  highest  functionaries.  Two 
ministers  constantly  in  attendance  on  the  Emperor,  are  com- 
missioned to  keep  a  journal  of  everything  the  Emperor  does, 
commands,  and  says,  and  their  notes  are  then  worked  up  and 
made  use  of  by  the  Historians.  We  cannot  go  further  into  the 
minutiae  of  their  annals,  which,  as  they  themselves  exhibit  no 
development,  would  only  hinder  us  in  ours.  Their  History 
ascends  to  very  ancient  times,  in  which  Fohi  is  named  as  the 
Diffuser  of  culture,  he  having  been  the  original  civilizer  of 
China.  He  is  said  to  have  lived  in  the  twenty-ninth  century  be- 
fore Christ — before  the  time,  therefore,  at  which  the  Shu-King 
begins ;  but  the  mythical  and  prehistorical  is  treated  by  Chi- 
nese Historians  as  perfectly  historical.  The  first  region  of 
Chinese  history  is  the  north-western  corner — China  Proper — 
towards  that  point  where  the  Hoang-ho  descends  from  the 
mountains ;  for  only  at  a  later  period  did  the  Chinese  empire 
extend  itself  towards  the  south,  to  the  Yang-tse-Kiang.  The 
narrative  begins  with  the  period  in  which  men  lived  in  a  wild 
state,  i.e.  in  the  woods,  when  they  fed  on  the  fruits  of  the  earth, 
and  clothed  themselves  with  the  skins  of  wild  beasts.  There 
was  no  recognition  of  definite  laws  among  them.  To  Fohi  (who 
must  be  duly  distinguished  from  Fo,  the  founder  of  a  new 
religion)  is  ascribed  the  instruction  of  men  in  building  them- 
selves huts  and  making  dwellings.  He  is  said  to  have  directed 
their  attention  to  the  change  and  return  of  seasons,  to  barter 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  119 

and  trade ;  to  have  established  marriage ;  to  have  taught  that 
Reason  came  from  Heaven,  and  to  have  given  instructions  for 
rearing  silkworms,  building  bridges,  and  making  use  of  beasts 
of  burden.  The  Chinese  historians  are  very  diffuse  on  the  sub- 
ject of  these  various  origins.  The  progress  of  the  history  is  the 
extension  of  the  culture  thus  originated,  to  the  south,  and  the 
beginning  of  a  state  and  a  government.  The  great  Empire 
which  had  thus  gradually  been  formed,  was  soon  broken  up 
into  many  provinces,  which  carried  on  long  wars  with  each 
other,  and  were  then  re-united  into  a  Whole.  The  dynasties 
in  China  have  often  been  changed,  and  the  one  now  dominant 
is  generally  marked  as  the  twenty-second.  In  connection  with 
the  rise  and  fall  of  these  dynasties  arose  the  different  capital 
cities  that  are  found  in  this  empire.  For  a  long  time  Nankin 
was  the  capital;  now  it  is  Pekin;  at  an  earlier  period  other 
cities.  China  has  been  compelled  to  wage  many  wars  with  the 
Tartars,  who  penetrated  far  into  the  country.  The  long  wall 
built  by  Shi-hoang-ti — and  which  has  always  been  regarded  as 
a  most  astounding  achievement — was  raised  as  a  barrier  against 
the  inroads  of  the  northern  Nomades.  This  prince  divided  the 
whole  empire  into  thirty-six  provinces,  and  made  himself  es- 
pecially remarkable  by  his  attacks  on  the  old  literature,  espe- 
cially on  the  historical  books  and  historical  studies  generally. 
He  did  this  with  the  design  of  strengthening  his  own  dynasty, 
by  destroying  the  remembrance  of  the  earlier  one.  After  the 
historical  books  had  been  collected  and  burned,  many  hun- 
dreds of  the  literati  fled  to  the  mountains,  in  order  to  save  what 
remained.  Every  one  that  fell  into  the  Emperor's  hands  ex- 
perienced the  same  fate  as  the  books.  This  Book-burning  is  a 
very  important  circumstance,  for  in  spite  of  it  the  strictly  canon- 
ical books  were  saved,  as  is  generally  the  case.  The  first  con- 
nection of  China  with  the  West  occurred  about  64  a.d.  At  that 
epoch  a  Chinese  emperor  despatched  ambassadors  (it  is  said)  to 
visit  the  wise  sages  of  the  West.  Twenty  years  later  a  Chinese 
general  is  reported  to  have  penetrated  as  far  as  Judea.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  eighth  century  after  Christ,  the  first  Christians 
are  reputed  to  have  gone  to  China,  of  which  visit  later  visitors 
assert  that  they  found  traces  and  monuments.  A  Tartar  king- 
dom, Lyau-Tong,  existing  in  the  north  of  China,  is  said  to  have 
been  reduced  and  taken  possession  of  by  the  Chinese  with  the 
help  of  the  Western  Tartars,  about  1100  a.d.    This,  neverthe- 


120  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

less,  gave  these  very  Tartars  an  opportunity  of  securing  a  foot- 
ing in  China.  Similarly  they  admitted  the  Manchus  with  whom 
they  engaged  in  war  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries, 
which  resulted  in  the  present  dynasty's  obtaining  possession  of 
the  throne.  Yet  this  new  dynasty  has  not  effected  further 
change  in  the  country,  any  more  than  did  the  earlier  conquest 
of  the  Mongols  in  the  year  1281.  The  Manchus  that  live  in 
China  have  to  conform  to  Chinese  laws,  and  study  Chinese  sci- 
ences. 

We  pass  now  from  these  few  dates  in  Chinese  history  to  the 
contemplation  of  the  Spirit  of  the  constitution,  which  has  al- 
ways remained  the  same.  We  can  deduce  it  from  the  general 
principle,  which  is,  the  immediate  unity  of  the  substantial  Spirit 
and  the  Individual ;  but  this  is  equivalent  to  the  Spirit  of  the 
Family,  which'  is  here  extended  over  the  most  populous  of 
countries.  The  element  of  Subjectivity — that  is  to  say,  the  re- 
flection upon  itself  of  the  individual  will  in  antithesis  to  the 
Substantial  (as  the  power  in  which  it  is  absorbed)  or  the  recog- 
nition of  this  power  as  one  with  its  own  essential  being,  in  which 
it  knows  itself  free — is  not  found  on  this  grade  of  development. 
The  universal  Will  displays  its  activity  immediately  through 
that  of  the  individual :  the  latter  has  no  self-cognizance  at  all  in 
antithesis  to  Substantial,  positive  being,  which  it  does  not  yet 
regard  as  a  power  standing  over  against  it — as,  (e.g.)  in  Judaism, 
the  "  Jealous  God  "  is  known  as  the  negation  of  the  Individual. 
In  China  the  Universal  Will  immediately  commands  what  the 
Individual  is  to  do,  and  the  latter  complies  and  obeys  with  pro- 
portionate renunciation  of  reflection  and  personal  independence. 
If  he  does  not  obey,  if  he  thus  virtually  separates  himself  from 
the  Substance  of  his  being,  inasmuch  as  this  separation  is  not 
mediated  by  a  retreat  within  a  personality  of  his  own,  the  pun- 
ishment he  undergoes  does  not  affect  his  subjective  and  in- 
ternal, but  simply  his  outward  existence.  The  element  of  sub- 
jectivity is  therefore  as  much  wanting  to  this  political  totality 
as  the  latter  is  on  its  side  altogether  destitute  of  a  foundation 
in  the  moral  disposition  of  the  subject.  For  the  Substance  is 
simply  an  individual — the  Emperor — whose  law  constitutes  all 
the  disposition.  Nevertheless,  this  ignoring  of  inclination  does 
not  imply  caprice,  which  would  itself  indicate  inclination — 
that  is,  subjectivity  and  mobility.  Here  we  have  the  One  Be- 
ing of  the  State  supremely  dominant — the  Substance,  which, 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  121 

still  hard  and  inflexible,  resembles  nothing  but  itself — includes 
no  other  element. 

This  relation,  then,  expressed  more  definitely  and  more  con- 
formably with  its  conception,  is  that  of  the  Family.  On  this 
form  of  moral  union  alone  rests  the  Chinese  State,  and  it  is 
objective  Family  Piety  that  characterizes  it.  The  Chinese  re- 
gard themselves  as  belonging  to  their  family,  and  at  the  same 
time  as  children  of  the  State.  In  the  Family  itself  they  are  not 
personalities,  for  the  consolidated  unity  in  which  they  exist  as 
members  of  it  is  consanguinity  and  natural  obligation.  In  the 
State  they  have  as  little  independent  personality ;  for  there  the 
patriarchal  relation  is  predominant,  and  the  government  is 
based  on  the  paternal  management  of  the  Emperor,  who  keeps 
all  departments  of  the  State  in  order.  Five  duties  are  stated 
in  the  Shu-King  as  involving  grave  and  unchangeable  funda- 
mental relations.  1.  The  mutual  one  of  the  Emperor  and  peo- 
ple. 2.  Of  the  Fathers  and  Children.  3.  Of  an  elder  and 
younger  brother.  4.  Of  Husband  and  Wife.  5.  Of  Friend  and 
Friend.  It  may  be  here  incidentally  remarked,  that  the  number 
Five  is  regarded  as  fundamental  among  the  Chinese,  and  pre- 
sents itself  as  often  as  the  number  Three  among  us.  They 
have  five  Elements  of  Nature — Air,  Water,  Earth,  Metal,  and 
Wood.  They  recognize  four  quarters  of  Heaven  and  a  cen- 
tre. Holy  places,  where  altars  are  erected,  consist  of  four  ele- 
vations, and  one  in  the  centre. 

The  duties  of  the  Family  are  absolutely  binding,  and  estab- 
lished and  regulated  by  law.  The  son  may  not  accost  the 
father,  when  he  comes  into  the  room ;  he  must  seem  to  con- 
tract himself  to  nothing  at  the  side  of  the  door,  and  may  not 
leave  the  room  without  his  father's  permission.  When  the 
father  dies,  the  son  must  mourn  for  three  years — abstaining 
from  meat  and  wine.  The  business  in  which  he  was  engaged, 
even  that  of  the  State,  must  be  suspended,  for  he  is  obliged  to 
quit  it.  Even  the  Emperor,  who  has  just  commenced  his  gov- 
ernment, does  not  devote  himself  to  his  duties  during  this  time. 
No  marriage  may  be  contracted  in  the  family  within  the  period 
of  mourning.  Only  the"  having  reached  his  fiftieth  year  ex- 
empts the  bereaved  from  the  excessive  strictness  of  the  regula- 
tions, which  are  then  relaxed  that  he  may  not  be  reduced  in 
person  by  them.  The  sixtieth  year  relaxes  them  still  further, 
and  the  seventieth  limits  mourning  to  the  color  of  the  dress. 


122  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

A  mother  is  honored  equally  with  a  father.  When  Lord  Ma- 
cartney saw  the  Emperor,  the  latter  was  sixty-eight  years  old, 
(sixty  years  is  among  the  Chinese  a  fundamental  round  num- 
ber, as  one  hundred  is  among  us),  notwithstanding  which  he 
visited  his  mother  every  morning  on  foot,  to  demonstrate  his 
respect  for  hen  The  New  Year's  congratulations  are  offered 
even  to  the  mother  of  the  Emperor ;  and  the  Emperor  himself 
cannot  receive  the  homage  of  the  grandees  of  the  court  until 
he  has  paid  his  to  his  mother.  The  latter  is  the  first  and  con- 
stant counsellor  of  her  son,  and  all  announcements  concerning 
his  family  are  made  in  her  name. — The  merits  of  a  son  are  as- 
cribed not  to  him,  but  to  his  father.  When  on  one  occasion  the 
prime  minister  asked  the  Emperor  to  confer  titles  of  honor  on 
his  father,  the  Emperor  issued  an  edict  in  which  it  was  said: 
"  Famine  was  desolating  the  Empire :  Thy  father  gave  rice  to 
the  starving.  What  beneficence !  The  Empire  was  on  the  edge 
of  ruin :  Thy  father  defended  it  at  the  hazard  of  his  life.  What 
fidelity !  The  government  of  the  kingdom  was  intrusted  to  thy 
father :  he  made  excellent  laws,  maintained  peace  and  concord 
with  the  neighboring  princes,  and  asserted  the  rights  of  my 
crown.  What  wisdom !  The  title  therefore  which  I  award  to 
him  is:  Beneficent,  Faithful  and  Wise." — The  Son  had  done 
all  that  is  here  ascribed  to  the  Father.  In  this  way  ancestors — 
a  fashion  the  reverse  of  ours — obtain  titles  of  honor  through 
their  posterity.  But  in  return,  every  Father  of  a  Family  is 
responsible  for  the  transgressions  of  his  descendants ;  duties 
ascend,  but  none  can  be  properly  said  to  descend. 

It  is  a  great  object  with  the  Chinese,  to  have  children  who 
may  give  them  the  due  honors  of  burial,  pay  respect  to  their 
memory  after  death,  and  decorate  their  grave.  Although  a 
Chinese  may  have  many  wives,  one  only  is  the  mistress  of  the 
house,  and  the  children  of  the  subordinate  wives  have  to  honor 
her  absolutely  as  a  mother.  If  a  Chinese  husband  has  no  chil- 
dren by  any  of  his  wives,  he  may  proceed  to  adoption  with  a 
view  to  this  posthumous  honor.  For  it  is  an  indispensable 
requirement  that  the  grave  of  parents  be  annually  visited.  Here 
lamentations  are  annually  renewed,  and  many,  to  give  full  vent 
to  their  grief,  remain  there  sometimes  one  or  two  months.  The 
body  of  a  deceased  father  is  often  kept  three  or  four  months 
in  the  house,  and  during  this  time  no  one  may  sit  down  on  a 
chair  or  sleep  in  a  bed.    Every  family  in  China  has  a  Hall  of 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  123 

Ancestors  where  all  the  members  annually  assemble ;  thde  are 
placed  representations  of  those  who  have  filled  exalted  posts, 
while  the  names  of  those  men  and  women  who  have  been  of 
less  importance  in  the  family  are  inscribed  on  tablets ;  the  whole 
family  then  partake  of  a  meal  together,  and  the  poor  members 
are  entertained  by  the  more  wealthy.  It  is  said  that  a  Man- 
darin who  had  become  a  Christian,  having  ceased  to  honor  his 
ancestors  in  this  way,  exposed  himself  to  great  persecutions  on 
the  part  of  his  relatives.  The  same  minuteness  of  regulation 
which  prevails  in  the  relation  between  father  and  children,  char- 
acterizes also  that  between  the  elder  brother  and  the  younger 
ones.  The  former  has,  though  in  a  less  degree  than  parents, 
claims  to  reverence. 

This  family  basis  is  also  the  basis  of  the  Constitution,  if  we 
can  speak  of  such.  For  although  the  Emperor  has  the  right  of 
a  Monarch,  standing  at  the  summit  of  a  political  edifice,  he  ex- 
ercises it  paternally.  He  is  the  Patriarch,  and  everything  in  the 
State  that  can  make  any  claim  to  reverence  is  attached  to  him. 
For  the  Emperor  is  chief  both  in  religious  affairs  and  in  sci- 
ence— a  subject  which  will  be  treated  of  in  detail  further  on. — 
This  paternal  care  on  the  part  of  the  Emperor,  and  the  spirit 
of  his  subjects — who  like  children  do  not  advance  beyond  the 
ethical  principle  of  the  family  circle,  and  can  gain  for  them- 
selves no  independent  and  civil  freedom — makes  the  whole  an 
empire,  administration,  and  social  code,  which  is  at  the  same 
time  moral  and  thoroughly  prosaic — that  is,  a  product  of  the 
Understanding  without  free  Reason  and  Imagination. 

The  Emperor  claims  the  deepest  reverence.  In  virtue  of  his 
position  he  is  obliged  personally  to  manage  the  government, 
and  must  himself  be  acquainted  with  and  direct  the  legislative 
business  of  the  Empire,  although  the  Tribunals  give  their  assist- 
ance. Notwithstanding  this,  there  is  little  room  for  the  exercise 
of  his  individual  will ;  for  the  whole  government  is  conducted 
on  the  basis  of  certain  ancient  maxims  of  the  Empire,  while 
his  constant  oversight  is  not  the  less  necessary.  The  imperial 
princes  are  therefore  educated  on  the  strictest  plan.  Their 
physical  frames  are  hardened  by  discipline,  and  the  sciences  are 
their  occupation  from  their  earliest  years.  Their  education  is 
conducted  under  the  Emperor's  superintendence,  and  they  are 
early  taught  that  the  Emperor  is  the  head  of  the  State  and  there- 
fore must  appear  as  the  first  and  best  in  everything.    An  ex- 


124  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

amination  of  the  princes  takes  place  every  year,  and  a  circum- 
stantial report  of  the  affair  is  published  through  the  whole  Em- 
pire, which  feels  the  deepest  interest  in  these  matters.  China 
has  therefore  succeeded  in  getting  the  greatest  and  best  gov- 
ernors, to  whom  the  expression  "  Solomonian  Wisdom  "  might 
be  applied;  and  the  present  Manchu  dynasty  has  especially 
distinguished  itself  by  abilities  of  mind  and  body.  All  the 
ideals  of  princes  and  of  princely  education  which  have  been  so 
numerous  and  varied  since  the  appearance  of  Fenelon's  "  Tele- 
maque  "  are  realized  here.  In  Europe  there  can  be  no  Solo- 
mons. But  here  are  the  place  and  the  necessity  for  such  govern- 
ment; since  the  rectitude,  the  prosperity,  the  security  of  all, 
depend  on  the  one  impulse  given  to  the  first  link  in  the  entire 
chain  of  this  hierarchy.  The  deportment  of  the  Emperor  is 
represented  to  us  as  in  the  highest  degree  simple,  natural,  noble 
and  intelligent.  Free  from  a  proud  taciturnity  or  repelling  hau- 
teur in  speech  or  manners,  he  lives  in  the  consciousness  of  his 
own  dignity  and  in  the  exercise  of  imperial  duties  to  whose 
observance  he  has  been  disciplined  from  his  earliest  youth.  Be- 
sides the  imperial  dignity  there  is  properly  no  elevated  rank, 
no  nobility  among  the  Chinese;  only  the  princes  of  the  im- 
perial house,  and  the  sons  of  the  ministers  enjoy  any  precedence 
of  the  kind,  and  they  rather  by  their  position  than  by  their 
birth.  Otherwise  all  are  equal,  and  only  those  have  a  share  in 
the  administration  of  affairs  who  have  ability  for  it.  Official 
stations  are  therefore  occupied  by  men  of  the  greatest  intellect 
and  education.  The  Chinese  State  has  consequently  been  often 
set  up  as  an  Ideal  which  may  serve  even  us  for  a  model. 

The  next  thing  to  be  considered  is  the  administration  of  the 
Empire.  We  cannot  speak,  in  reference  to  China,  of  a  Consti- 
tution; for  this  would  imply  that  individuals  and  corporations 
have  independent  rights — partly  in  respect  of  their  particular 
interests,  partly  in  respect  of  the  entire  State.  This  element 
must  be  wanting  here,  and  we  can  only  speak  of  an  administra- 
tion of  the  Empire.  In  China,  we  have  the  reality  of  absolute 
equality,  and  all  the  differences  that  exist  are  possible  only  in 
connection  with  that  administration,  and  in  virtue  of  the  worth 
which  a  person  may  acquire,  enabling  him  to  fill  a  high  post 
in  the  Government.  Since  equality  prevails  in  China,  but  with- 
out any  freedom,  despotism  is  necessarily  the  mode  of  govern- 
ment.   Among  us,  men  are  equal  only  before  the  law,  and  in 


THE   ORIENTAL  WORLD 


125 


the  respect  paid  to  the  property  of  each ;  but  they  have  also 
many  interests  and  peculiar  privileges,  which  must  be  guaran- 
teed, if  we  are  to  have  what  we  call  freedom.  But  in  the  Chinese 
Empire  these  special  interests  enjoy  no  consideration  on  their 
own  account,  and  the  government  proceeds  from  the  Emperor 
alone,  who  sets  it  in  movement  as  a  hierarchy  of  officials  ot- 
Mandarins.  Of  these,  there  are  two  kinds — learned  and  mil- 
itary Mandarins — the  latter  corresponding  to  our  Officers. 
The  Learned  Mandarins  constitute  the  higher  rank,  for,  in 
China,  civilians  take  precedence  of  the  military.  Government 
officials  are  educated  at  the  schools;  elementary  schools  are 
instituted  for  obtaining  elementary  knowledge.  Institutions 
for  higher  cultivation,  such  as  our  Universities,  may,  perhaps, 
be  said  not  to  exist.  Those  who  wish  to  attain  high  official  posts 
must  undergo  several  examinations — usually  three  in  num- 
ber. To  the  third  and  last  examination — at  which  the  Em- 
peror himself  is  present — only  those  can  be  admitted  who  have 
passed  the  first  and  second  with  credit ;  and  the  reward  for  hav- 
ing succeeded  in  this,  is  the  immediate  introduction  into  the 
highest  Council  of  the  Empire.  The  sciences,  an  acquaintance 
with  which  is  especially  required,  are  the  History  of  the  Em- 
pire, Jurisprudence,  and  the  science  of  customs  and  usages,  and 
of  the  organization  and  administration  of  government.  Besides 
this,  the  Mandarins  are  said  to  have  a  talent  for  poetry  of  the 
most  refined  order.  We  have  the  means  of  judging  of  this,  par- 
ticularly from  the  Romance,  Ju-kiao-li,  or,  "  The  Two  Cousins," 
translated  by  Abel  Remusat :  in  this,  a  youth  is  introduced  who 
having  finished  his  studies,  is  endeavoring  to  attain  high  dig- 
nities. The  officers  of  the  army,  also,  must  have  some  mental 
acquirements ;  they  too  are  examined ;  but  civil  functionaries 
enjoy,  at  stated  above,  far  greater  respect.  At  the  great  festivals 
the  Emperor  appears  with  a  retinue  of  two  thousand  Doctors, 
i.e.  Mandarins  in  Civil  Offices,  and  the  same  number  of  military 
Mandarins.  (In  the  whole  Chinese  State,  there  are  about  15,000 
civil,  and  20,000  military  Mandarins.)  The  Mandarins  who 
have  not  yet  obtained  an  office,  nevertheless  belong  to  the 
Court,  and  are  obliged  to  appear  at  the  great  festivals  in  the 
Spring  and  Autumn,  when  the  Emperor  himself  guides  the 
plough.  These  functionaries  are  divided  into  eight  classes. 
The  first  are  those  that  attend  the  Emperor,  then  follow  the 
viceroys,  and  so  on.    The  Emperor  governs  by  means  of  admin- 


126  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

istrative  bodies,  for  the  most  part  composed  of  Mandarins.  The 
Council  of  the  Empire  is  the  highest  body  of  the  kind :  it  con- 
sists of  the  most  learned  and  talented  men.  From  these  are 
chosen  the  presidents  of  the  other  colleges.  The  greatest  pub- 
licity prevails  in  the  business  of  government.  The  subordinate 
officials  report  to  the  Council  of  the  Empire,  and  the  latter  lay 
the  matter  before  the  Emperor,  whose  decision  is  made  known 
in  the  Court  Journal.  The  Emperor  often  accuses  himself  of 
faults ;  and  should  his  princes  have  been  unsuccessful  in  their 
examination,  he  blames  them  severely.  In  every  Ministry,  and 
in  various  parts  of  the  Empire,  there  is  a  Censor  (Ko-tao),  who 
has  to  give  the  Emperor  an  account  of  everything.  These  Cen- 
sors enjoy  a  permanent  office,  and  are  very  much  feared.  They 
exercise  a  strict  surveillance  over  everything  that  concerns  the 
government,  and  the  public  and  private  conduct  of  the  Man- 
darins, and  make  their  report  immediately  to  the  Emperor. 
They  have  also  the  right  of  remonstrating  with  and  blaming 
him.  The  Chinese  History  gives  many  examples  of  the  noble- 
mindedness  and  courage  of  these  Ko-taos.  For  example :  A 
Censor  had  remonstrated  with  a  tyrannical  sovereign,  but  had 
been  severely  repulsed.  Nevertheless,  he  was  not  turned  away 
from  his  purpose,  but  betook  himself  once  more  to  the  Em- 
peror to  renew  his  remonstrances.  Foreseeing  his  death,  he 
had  the  coffin  brought  in  with  him,  in  which  he  was  to  be 
buried.  It  is  related  of  the  Censors,  that — cruelly  lacerated  by 
the  torturers  and  unable  to  utter  a  sound — they  have  even 
written  their  animadversions  with  their  own  blood  in  the  sand. 
These  Censors  themselves  form  yet  another  Tribunal  which  has 
the  oversight  of  the  whole  Empire.  The  Mandarins  are  respon- 
sible also  for  performing  duties  arising  from  unforeseen  exigen- 
cies in  the  State.  If  famine,  disease,  conspiracy,  religious  dis- 
turbances occur,  they  have  to  report  the  facts  ;  not,  however,  to 
wait  for  further  orders  from  government,  but  immediately  to  act 
as  the  case  requires.  The  whole  of  the  administration  is  thus 
covered  by  a  network  of  officials.  Functionaries  are  appointed 
to  superintend  the  roads,  the  rivers,  and  the  coasts.  Everything 
is  arranged  with  the  greatest  minuteness.  In  particular,  great 
attention  is  paid  to  the  rivers  ;  in  the  Shu-King  are  to  be  found 
many  edicts  of  the  Emperor,  designed  to  secure  the  land  from 
inundations.  The  gates  of  every  town  are  guarded  by  a  watch, 
and  the  streets  are  barred  all  night.     Government  officers  are 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  127 

always  answerable  to  the  higher  Council.  Every  Mandarin  is 
also  bound  to  make  known  the  faults  he  has  committed,  every 
five  years ;  and  the  trustworthiness  of  his  statement  is  attested 
by  a  Board  of  Control — the  Censorship.  In  the  case  of  any 
grave  crime  not  confessed,  the  Mandarins  and  their  families 
are  punished  most  severely.  From  all  this  it  is  clear  that  the 
Emperor  is  the  centre,  around  which  everything  turns ;  con- 
sequently the  well-being  of  the  country  and  people  depends  on 
him.  The  whole  hierarchy  of  the  administration  works  more 
or  less  according  to  a  settled  routine,  which  in  a  peaceful  con- 
dition of  things  becomes  a  convenient  habit.  Uniform  and  reg- 
ular, like  the  course  of  nature,  it  goes  its  own  way,  at  one  time 
as  at  another  time ;  but  the  Emperor  is  required  to  be  the  mov- 
ing, ever  wakeful,  spontaneously  active  Soul.  If  then  the  per- 
sonal character  of  the  Emperor  is  not  of  the  order  described — 
namely,  thoroughly  moral,  laborious,  and  while  maintaining 
dignity,. full  of  energy — everything  is  relaxed,  and  the  govern- 
ment is  paralyzed  from  head  to  foot,  and  given  over  to  care- 
lessness and  caprice.  For  there  is  no  other  legal  power  or  insti- 
tution extant,  but  this  superintendence  and  oversight  of  the 
Emperor.  It  is  not  their  own  conscience,  their  own  honor, 
which  keeps  the  offices  of  government  up  to  their  duty,  but  an 
external  mandate  and  the  severe  sanctions  by  which  it  is  sup- 
ported. In  the  instance  of  the  revolution  that  occurred  in  the 
middle  of  the  seventeenth  century,  the  last  Emperor  of  the 
dynasty  was  very  amiable  and  honorable ;  but  through  the 
mildness  of  his  character,  the  reins  of  government  were  relaxed, 
and  disturbances  naturally  ensued.  The  rebels  called  the  Man- 
chus  into  the  country.  The  Emperor  killed  himself  to  avoid 
falling  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  and  with  his  blood  wrote 
on  the  border  of  his  daughter's  robe  a  few  words,  in  which  he 
complained  bitterly  of  the  injustice  of  his  subjects.  A  Man- 
darin, who  was  with  him,  buried  him,  and  then  killed  himself 
on  his  grave.  The  Empress  and  her  attendants  followed  the  ex- 
ample. The  last  prince  of  the  imperial  house,  who  was  besieged 
in  a  distant  province,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy  and  was 
put  to  death.  All  the  other  attendant  Mandarins  died  a  volun- 
tary death. 

Passing  from  the  administration  to  the  Jurisprudence  of 
China,  we  find  the  subjects  regarded  as  in  a  state  of  nonage,  in 
virtue  of  the  principle  of  patriarchal  government.    No  inde- 


128  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

pendent  classes  or  orders,  as  in  India,  have  interests  of  their 
own  to  defend.  All  is  directed  and  superintended  from  above. 
All  legal  relations  are  definitely  settled  by  rules ;  free  sentiment 
— the  moral  standpoint  generally — is  thereby  thoroughly  ob- 
literated.* It  is  formally  determined  by  the  laws  in  what  way 
the  members  of  the  family  should  be  disposed  towards  each 
other,  and  the  transgression  of  these  laws  entails  in  some  cases 
severe  punishment.  The  second  point  to  be  noticed  here,  is 
the  legal  externality  of  the  Family  relations,  which  becomes 
almost  slavery.  Every  one  has  the  power  of  selling  himself 
and  his  children ;  every  Chinese  buys  his  wife.  Only  the  chief 
wife  is  a  free  woman.  The  concubines  are  slaves,  and — like  the 
children  and  every  other  chattel — may  be  seized  upon  in  case 
of  confiscation. 

A  third  point  is,  that  punishments  are  generally  corporal 
chastisements.  Among  us,  this  would  be  an  insult  to  honor; 
not  so  in  China,  where  the  feeling  of  honor  has  not  yet  devel- 
oped itself.  A  dose  of  cudgelling  is  the  most  easily  forgotten ; 
yet  it  is  the  severest  punishment  for  a  man  of  honor,  who  de- 
sires not  to  be  esteemed  physically  assailable,  but  who  is  vulner- 
able in  directions  implying  a  more  refined  sensibility.  But  the 
Chinese  do  not  recognize  a  subjectivity  in  honor ;  they  are  the 
subjects  rather  of  corrective  than  retributive  punishment — as 
are  children  among  us ;  for  corrective  punishment  aims  at  im- 
provement, that  which  is  retributive  implies  veritable  imputa- 
tion of  guilt.  In  the  corrective,  the  deterring  principle  is  only 
the  fear  of  punishment,  not  any  consciousness  of  wrong;  for 
here  we  cannot  presume  upon  any  reflection  upon  the  nature 
of  the  action  itself.  Among  the  Chinese  all  crimes — those  com- 
mitted against  the  laws  of  the  Family  relation,  as  well  as  against 
the  State — are  punished  externally.  Sons  who  fail  in  paying 
due  honor  to  their  Father  or  Mother,  younger  brothers  who  are 
not  sufficiently  respectful  to  elder  ones,  are  bastinadoed.  If 
a  son  complains  of  injustice  done  to  him  by  his  father,  or  a 
younger  brother  by  an  elder,  he  receives  a  hundred  blows  with 
a  bamboo,  and  is  banished  for  three  years,  if  he  is  in  the  right; 

*  It  is  evident  that  the  term  "  moral  terms,  morality,  moral  government,  etc., 
standpoint  "  is  used  here  in  the  strict  in  reference  to  the  Chinese;  as  they  de- 
sense  in  which  Hegel  has  defined  it,  in  note  morality  only  in  the  loose  and  or- 
his  "  Philosophy  of  Law,"  as  that  of  the  dinary  meaning  of  the  word — precepts  or 
self-determination  of  subjectivity,  free  commands  given  with  a  view  to  produc- 
conviction  of  the  Good.  The  reader,  ing  good  behavior — without  bringing 
therefore,  should  not  misunderstand  the  into  relief  the  element  of  internal  con- 
use  that   continues  to  be   made  of  the  viction.— Ed. 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD 


129 


if  not,  he  is  strangled.  If  a  son  should  raise  his  hand  against 
his  father,  he  is  condemned  to  have  his  flesh  torn  from  his 
body  with  red-hot  pincers.  The  relation  between  husband  and 
wife  is,  like  all  other  family  relations,  very  highly  esteemed,  and 
unfaithfulness — which,  however,  on  account  of  the  seclusion 
in  which  the  women  are  kept,  can  very  seldom  present  itself — 
meets  with  severe  animadversion.  Similar  penalties  await  the 
exhibition  on  the  part  of  a  Chinese  of  greater  affection  to  one 
of  his  inferior  wives  than  to  the  matron  who  heads  his  estab- 
lishment, should  the  latter  complain  of  such  disparagement. 
In  China,  every  Mandarin  is  authorized  to  inflict  blows  with 
the  bamboo ;  even  the  highest  and  most  illustrious — Ministers, 
Viceroys,  and  even  the  favorites  of  the  Emperor  himself — are 
punished  in  this  fashion.  The  friendship  of  the  Emperor  is 
not  withdrawn  on  account  of  such  chastisement,  and  they  them- 
selves appear  not  sensibly  touched  by  it.  When,  on  one  occa- 
sion, the  last  English  embassy  to  China  was  conducted  home 
from  the  palace  by  the  princes  and  their  retinue,  the  Master 
of  the  Ceremonies,  in  order  to  make  room,  without  any  cere- 
mony cleared  the  way  among  the  princes  and  nobles  with  a 
whip. 

As  regards  responsibility,  the  distinction  between  malice  pre- 
pense and  blameless  or  accidental  commission  of  an  act  is  not 
regarded ;  for  accident  among  the  Chinese  is  as  much  charged 
with  blame,  as  intention.  Death  is  the  penalty  of  accidental 
homicide.  This  ignoring  of  the  distinction  between  accident 
and  intention  occasions  most  of  the  disputes  between  the  Eng- 
lish and  the  Chinese ;  for  should  the  former  be  attacked  by  the 
latter — should  a  ship  of  war,  believing  itself  attacked,  defend 
itself,  and  a  Chinese  be  killed  as  the  consequence — the  Chinese 
are  accustomed  to  require  that  the  Englishman  who  fired  the 
fatal  shot  should  lose  his  life.  Everyone  who  is  in  any  way 
connected  with  the  transgressor,  shares — especially  in  the  case 
of  crimes  against  the  Emperor — the  ruin  of  the  actual  offender : 
all  his  near  kinsmen  are  tortured  to  death.  The  printers  of  an 
objectionable  book  and  those  who  read  it,  are  similarly  exposed 
to  the  vengeance  of  the  law.  The  direction  which  this  state 
of  things  gives  to  private  revenge  is  singular.  It  may  be  said 
of  the  Chinese  that  they  are  extremely  sensitive  to  injuries  and 
of  a  vindictive  nature.  To  satisfy  his  revenge  the  offended  per- 
son does  not  venture  to  kill  his  opponent,  because  the  whole 


i3o  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

family  of  the  assassin  would  be  put  to  death;  he  therefore 
inflicts  an  injury  on  himself,  to  ruin  his  adversary.  In  many 
towns  it  has  been  deemed  necessary  to  contract  the  openings  of 
wells,  to  put  a  stop  to  suicides  by  drowning.  For  when  anyone 
has  committed  suicide,  the  laws  ordain  that  the  strictest  inves- 
tigation shall  be  made  into  the  cause.  All  the  enemies  of  the 
suicide  are  arrested  and  put  to  the  torture,  and  if  the  person 
who  has  committed  the  insult  which  led  to  the  act,  can  be  dis- 
covered, he  and  his  whole  family  are  executed.  In  case  of 
insult  therefore,  a  Chinese  prefers  killing  himself  rather  than 
his  opponent;  since  in  either  case  he  must  die,  but  in  the  for- 
mer contingency  will  have  the  due  honors  of  burial,  and  may 
cherish  the  hope  that  his  family  will  acquire  the  property  of 
his  adversary.  Such  is  the  fearful  state  of  things  in  regard  to 
responsibility  and  non- responsibility ;  all  subjective  freedom 
and  moral  concernment  with  an  action  are  ignored.  In  the 
Mosaic  Laws,  where  the  distinction  between  dolus,  culpa,  and 
casus,  is  also  not  yet  clearly  recognized,  there  is  nevertheless 
an  asylum  opened  for  the  innocent  homicide,  to  which  he  may 
betake  himself. — There  is  in  China  no  distinction  in  the  penal 
code  between  higher  and  lower  classes.  A  field-marshal  of  the 
Empire,  who  had  very  much  distinguished  himself,  was  tra- 
duced on  some  account,  to  the  Emperor;  and  the  punishment 
for  the  alleged  crime,  was  that  he  should  be  a  spy  upon  those 
who  did  not  fulfil  their  duty  in  clearing  away  the  snow  from 
the  streets. — Among  the  legal  relations  of  the  Chinese  we  have 
also  to  notice  changes  in  the  rights  of  possession  and  the  intro- 
duction of  slavery,  which  is  connected  there  with  it.  The  soil 
of  China,  in  which  the  chief  possessions  of  the  Chinese  consist, 
was  regarded  only  at  a  late  epoch  as  essentially  the  property 
of  the  State.  At  that  time  the  Ninth  of  all  moneys  from  estates 
was  allotted  by  law  to  the  Emperor.  At  a  still  later  epoch  serf- 
dom was  established,  and  its  enactment  has  been  ascribed  to 
the  Emperor  Shi-hoang-ti,  who  in  the  year  213  B.C.,  built  the 
Great  Wall ;  who  had  all  the  writings  that  recorded  the  ancient 
rights  of  the  Chinese,  burned ;  and  who  brought  many  inde- 
pendent principalities  of  China  under  his  dominion.  His  wars 
caused  the  conquered  lands  to  become  private  property,  and 
the  dwellers  on  these  lands,  serfs.  In  China,  however,  the  dis- 
tinction between  Slavery  and  freedom  is  necessarily,  not  great, 
since  all  are  equal  before  the  Emperor — that  is,  all  are  alike 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  131 

degraded.  As  no  honor  exists,  and  no  one  has  an  individual 
right  in  respect  of  others,  the  consciousness  of  debasement  pre- 
dominates, and  this  easily  passes  into  that  of  utter  abandon- 
ment. With  this  abandonment  is  connected  the  great  immoral- 
ity of  the  Chinese.  They  are  notorious  for  deceiving  wherever 
they  can.  Friend  deceives  friend,  and  no  one  resents  the  at- 
tempt at  deception  on  the  part  of  another,  if  the  deceit  has 
not  succeeded  in  its  object,  or  comes  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
person  sought  to  be  defrauded.  Their  frauds  are  most  astutely 
and  craftily  performed,  so  that  Europeans  have  to  be  painfully 
cautious  in  dealing  with  them.  Their  consciousness  of  moral 
abandonment  shows  itself  also  in  the  fact  that  the  religion  of 
Fo  is  so  widely  diffused ;  a  religion  which  regards  as  the  High- 
est and  Absolute — as  God — pure  Nothing;  which  sets  up  con- 
tempt for  individuality,  for  personal  existence,  as  the  highest 
perfection. 

We  come,  then,  to  the  consideration  of  the  religious  side  of 
the  Chinese  Polity.  In  the  patriarchal  condition  the  religious 
exaltation  of  man  has  merely  a  human  reference — simple  moral- 
ity and  right-doing.  The  Absolute  itself,  is  regarded  partly 
as  the  abstract,  simple  rule  of  this  right-doing — eternal  recti- 
tude; partly  as  the  power  which  is  its  sanction.  Except  in 
these  simple  aspects,  all  the  relations  of  the  natural  world,  the 
postulates  of  subjectivity — of  heart  and  soul — are  entirely  ig- 
nored. The  Chinese  in  their  patriarchal  despotism  need  no 
such  connection  or  mediation  with  the  Highest  Being;  for 
education,  the  laws  of  morality  and  courtesy,  and  the  com- 
mands and  government  of  the  Emperor  embody  all  such  con- 
nection and  mediation  as  far  as  they  feel  the  need  of  it.  The 
Emperor,  as  he  is  the  Supreme  Head  of  the  State,  is  also  the 
Chief  of  its  religion.  Consequently,  religion  is  in  China  essen- 
tially State-Religion.  The  distinction  between  it  and  Lamaism 
must  be  observed,  since  the  latter  is  not  developed  to  a  State, 
but  contains  religion  as  a  free,  spiritual,  disinterested  con- 
sciousness. That  Chinese  religion,  therefore,  cannot  be  what 
we  call  religion.  For  to  us  religion  means  the  retirement  of 
the  Spirit  within  itself,  in  contemplating  its  essential  nature,  its 
inmost  Being.  In  these  spheres,  then,  man  is  withdrawn  from 
his  relation  to  the  State,  and  betaking  himself  to  this  retirement, 
is  able  to  release  himself  from  the  power  of  secular  govern- 
ment. But  is,  Cfcina  religion  has  not  risen  to  this  grade,  for  true 
Vol.  23  G— Classics 


i32  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

faith  is  possible  only  where  individuals  can  seclude  themselves 
— can  exist  for  themselves  independently  of  any  external  com- 
pulsory power.  In  China  the  individual  has  no  such  life ; — does 
not  enjoy  this  independence:  in  any  direction  he  is  therefore 
dependent;  in  religion  as  well  as  in  other  things;  that  is,  de- 
pendent on  objects  of  nature,  of  which  the  most  exalted  is  the 
material  heaven.  On  this  depend  harvest,  the  seasons  of  the 
year,  the  abundance  and  sterility  of  crops.  The  Emperor,  as 
crown  of  all — the  embodiment  of  power — alone  approaches 
heaven;  individuals,  as  such,  enjoy  no  such  privilege.  He  it 
is,  who  presents  the  offerings  at  the  four  feasts ;  gives  thanks 
at  the  head  of  his  court,  for  the  harvest,  and  invokes  blessings 
on  the  sowing  of  the  seed.  This  "  heaven  "  might  be  taken  in 
the  sense  of  our  term  "  God,"  as  the  Lord  of  Nature  (we  say, 
for  example,  "  Heaven  protect  us !  " )  ;  but  such  a  relation  is 
beyond  the  scope  of  Chinese  thought,  for  here  the  one  isolated 
self -consciousness  is  substantial  being,  the  Emperor  himself, 
the  Supreme  Power.  Heaven  has  therefore  no  higher  meaning 
than  Nature.  The  Jesuits  indeed,  yielded  to  Chinese  notions 
so  far  as  to  call  the  Christian  God,  "  Heaven  " — "  Tien  " ;  but 
they  were  on  that  account  accused  to  the  Pope  by  other  Chris- 
tian Orders.  The  Pope  consequently  sent  a  Cardinal  to  China, 
who  died  there.  A  bishop  who  was  subsequently  despatched, 
enacted  that  instead  of  "  Heaven,"  the  term  "  Lord  of  Heaven  ' 
should  be  adopted.  The  relation  to  Tien  is  supposed  to  be  such, 
that  the  good  conduct  of  individuals  and  of  the  Emperor  brings 
blessing;  their  transgressions  on  the  other  hand  cause  want 
and  evil  of  all  kinds.  The  Chinese  religion  involves  that  primi- 
tive element  of  magical  influence  over  nature,  inasmuch  as 
human  conduct  absolutely  determines  the  course  of  events.  If 
the  Emperor  behaves  well,  prosperity  cannot  but  ensue ;  Heaven 
must  ordain  prosperity.  A  second  side  of  this  religion  is,  that 
as  the  general  aspect  of  the  relation  to  Heaven  is  bound  up  with 
the  person  of  the  Emperor,  he  has  also  its  more  special  bearings 
in  his  hands ;  viz.  the  particular  well-being  of  individuals  and 
provinces.  These  have  each  an  appropriate  Genius  (Chen), 
which  is  subject  to  the  Emperor,  who  pays  adoration  only  to 
the  general  Power  of  Heaven,  while  the  several  Spirits  of  the 
natural  world  follow  his  laws.  He  is  thus  made  the  proper 
legislator  for  Heaven  as  well  as  for  earth.  To  these  Genii, 
each  of  which  enjoys  a  worship  peculiar  to  itself,  certain  sculp- 


THE   ORIENTAL  WORLD 


133 


tured  forms  are  assigned.  These  are  disgusting  idols,  which 
iave  not  yet  attained  the  dignity  of  art,  because  nothing  spir- 
iual  is  represented  in  them.  They  are  therefore  only  terrific, 
frightful  and  negative ;  they  keep  watch — as  among  the  Greeks 
do  the  River-Gods,  the  Nymphs,  and  Dryads — over  single  ele- 
ments and  natural  objects.  Each  of  the  five  Elements  has  its 
genius,  distinguished  by  a  particular  color.  The  sovereignty 
of  the  dynasty  that  occupies  the  throne  of  China  also  depends 
on  a  Genius,  and  this  one  has  a  yellow  color.  Not  less  does 
every  province  and  town,  every  mountain  and  river  possess  an 
appropriate  Genius.  All  these  Spirits  are  subordinate  to  the 
Emperor,  and  in  the  Annual  Directory  of  the  Empire  are  regis- 
tered the  functionaries  and  genii  to  whom  such  or  such  a  brook, 
river,  etc.,  has  been  intrusted.  If  a  mischance  occurs  in  any 
part,  the  Genius  is  deposed  as  a  Mandarin  would  be.  The 
Genii  have  innumerable  temples  (in  Pekin  nearly  10,000)  to 
which  a  multitude  of  priests  and  convents  are  attached.  These 
"  Bonzes  "  live  unmarried,  and  in  all  cases  of  distress  are  ap- 
plied to  by  the  Chinese  for  counsel.  In  other  respects,  however, 
neither  they  nor  the  temples  are  much  venerated.  Lord  Macart- 
ney's Embassy  was  even  quartered  in  a  temple — such  buildings 
beings  used  as  inns.  The  Emperor  has  sometimes  thought  fit 
to  secularize  many  thousands  of  these  convents ;  to  compel  the 
Bonzes  to  return  to  civil  life;  and  to  impose  taxes  on  the 
estates  appertaining  to  the  foundations.  The  Bonzes  are  sooth- 
sayers and  exorcists:  for  the  Chinese  are  given  up  to  bound- 
less superstitions.  This  arises  from  the  want  of  subjective 
independence,  and  presupposes  the  very  opposite  of  freedom  of 
Spirit.  In  every  undertaking — e.g.  if  the  site  of  a  house,  or  of 
a  grave,  etc.,  is  to  be  determined — the  advice  of  the  Sooth- 
sayers as  asked.  In  the  Y-King  certain  lines  are  given,  which 
supply  fundamental  forms  and  categories — on  account  of  which 
this  book  is  called  the  "  Book  of  Fates."  A  certain  meaning 
is  ascribed  to  the  combination  of  such  lines,  and  prophetic  an- 
nouncements are  deduced  from  this  groundwork.  Or  a  number 
of  little  sticks  are  thrown  into  the  air,  and  the  fate  in  question 
is  prognosticated  from  the  way  in  which  they  fall.  What  we 
regard  as  chance,  as  natural  connection,  the  Chinese  seek  to 
deduce  or  attain  by  magical  arts;  and  in  this  particular  also, 
their  want  of  spiritual  religion  is  manifested. 

With  this  deficiency  of  genuine  subjectivity  is  connected 


134 


PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 


moreover,  the  form  which  Chinese  Science  assumes.  In  men- 
tioning Chinese  sciences  we  encounter  a  considerable  clamor 
about  their  perfection  and  antiquity.  Approaching  the  subject 
more  closely,  we  see  that  the  sciences  enjoy  very  great  respect, 
and  that  they  are  even  publicly  extolled  and  promoted  by  the 
Government.  The  Emperor  himself  stands  at  the  apex  of  lit- 
erature. A  college  exists  whose  special  business  it  is  to  edit  the 
decrees  of  the  Emperor,  with  a  view  to  their  being  composed 
in  the  best  style;  and  this  redaction  assumes  the  character  of 
an  important  affair  of  State.  The  Mandarins  in  their  notifica- 
tions have  to  study  the  same  perfection  of  style,  for  the  form 
is  expected  to  correspond  with  the  excellence  of  the  matter. 
One  of  the  highest  Governmental  Boards  is  the  Academy  of 
Sciences.  The  Emperor  himself  examines  its  members;  they 
live  in  the  palace,  and  perform  the  functions  of  Secretaries, 
Historians  of  the  Empire,  Natural  Philosophers,  and  Geogra- 
phers. Should  a  new  law  be  proposed,  the  Academy  must  re- 
port upon  it.  By  way  of  introduction  to  such  report  it  must 
give  the  history  of  existing  enactments ;  or  if  the  law  in  ques- 
tion affects  foreign  countries,  a  description  of  them  is  required. 
The  Emperor  himself  writes  the  prefaces  to  the  works  thus 
composed.  Among  recent  Emperors  Kien-long  especially  dis- 
tinguished himself  by  his  scientific  acquirements.  He  himself 
wrote  much,  but  became  far  more  remarkable  by  publishing  the 
principal  works  that  China  has  produced.  At  the  head  of  the 
commission  appointed  to  correct  the  press,  was  a  Prince  of  the 
Empire ;  and  after  the  work  had  passed  through  the  hands  of 
all,  it  came  once  more  back  to  the  Emperor,  who  severely  pun- 
ished every  error  that  had  been  committed. 

Though  in  one  aspect  the  sciences  appear  thus  pre-eminently 
honored  and  fostered,  there  are  wanting  to  them  on  the  other 
side  that  free  ground  of  subjectivity,  and  that  properly  scientific 
interest,  which  make  them  a  truly  theoretical  occupation  of  the 
mind.  A  free,  ideal,  spiritual  kingdom  has  here  no  place. 
What  may  be  called  scientific  is  of  a  merely  empirical  nature, 
and  is  made  absolutely  subservient  to  the  Useful  on  behalf  of 
the  State — its  requirements  and  those  of  individuals.  The  nat- 
ure of  their  Written  Language  is  at  the  outset  a  great  hin- 
drance to  the  development  of  the  sciences.  Rather,  conversely, 
because  a  true  scientific  interest  does  not  exist,  the  Chinese 
have  acquired  no  better  instrument  for  representing  and  im- 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  135 

parting  thought.  They  have,  as  is  well  known,  beside  a  Spoken 
Language,  a  Written  Language;  which  does  not  express,  as 
our  does,  individual  sounds — does  not  present  the  spoken  words 
to  the  eye,  but  represents  the  ideas  themselves  by  signs.  This 
appears  at  first  sight  a  great  advantage,  and  has  gained  the 
suffrages  of  many  great  men — among  others,  of  Leibnitz.  In 
reality,  it  is  anything  but  such.  For  if  we  consider  in  the  first 
place,  the  effect  of  such  a  mode  of  writing  on  the  Spoken  Lan- 
guage, we  shall  find  this  among  the  Chinese  very  imperfect,  on 
account  of  that  separation.  For  our  Spoken  Language  is 
matured  to  distinctness  chiefly  through  the  necessity  of  finding 
signs  for  each  single  sound,  which  latter,  by  reading,  we  learn 
to  express  distinctly.  The  Chinese,  to  whom  such  a  means  of 
orthoepic  development  is  wanting,  do  not  mature  the  modifica- 
tions of  sounds  in  their  language  to  distinct  articulations  capa- 
ble of  being  represented  by  letters  and  syllables.  Their  Spoken 
Language  consists  of  an  inconsiderable  number  of  monosylla- 
bic words,  which  are  used  with  more  than  one  signification. 
The  sole  methods  of  denoting  distinctions  of  meaning  are  the 
connection,  the  accent,  and  the  pronunciation — quicker  or 
slower,  softer  or  louder.  The  ears  of  the  Chinese  have  become 
very  sensible  to  such  distinctions.  Thus  I  find  that  the  word 
Po  has  eleven  different  meanings  according  to  the  tone:  de- 
noting "  glass  " — "  to  boil  " — "  to  winnow  wheat  " — "  to  cleave 
asunder  " — "  to  water  " — "  to  prepare  " — ''"  an  old  woman  " — 
"  a  slave  " — "  a  liberal  man  " — "  a  wise  person  " — "  a  little." — 
As  to  their  Written  Language,  I  will  -pecify  only  the  obstacles 
which  it  presents  to  the  advance  of  he  sciences.  Our  Written 
Language1  is  very  simple  for  a  leainer,  as  we  analyze  our 
Spoken  Language  into  about  twenty-five  articulations,  by 
which  analysis,  speech  is  rendered  definite,  the  multitude  of 
possible  sounds  is  limited,  and  obscure  intermediate  sounds  are 
banished:  we  have  to  learn  only  these  signs  and  their  combi- 
nations. Instead  of  twenty-five  signs  of  this  sort,  the  Chinese 
have  many  thousands  to  learn.  The  number  necessary  for  use 
is  reckoned  at  9,353,  or  even  10,516,  if  we  add  those  recently 
introduced ;  and  tne  number  of  characters  generally,  for  ideas 
and  their  combinations  as  they  are  presented  in  books,  amounts 
to  from  80,000  to  90,000.  As  to  the  sciences  themselves,  His- 
tory among  the  Chinese  comprehends  the  bare  and  definite  facts, 
without  any  opinion  or  reasoning  upon  them.    In  the  same  way 


x36  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

their  Jurisprudence  gives  only  fixed  laws,  and  their  Ethics  only 
determinate  duties,  without  raising  the  question  of  a  subjective 
foundation  for  them.  The  Chinese  have,  however,  in  addition 
to  other  sciences,  a  Philosophy,  whose  elementary  principles 
are  of  great  antiquity,  since  the  Y-King — the  Book  of  Fates — 
treats  of  Origination  and  Destruction.  In  this  book  are  found 
the  purely  abstract  ideas  of  Unity  and  Duality ;  the  Philosophy 
of  the  Chinese  appears  therefore  to  proceed  from  the  same 
fundamental  ideas  as  that  of  Pythagoras.*  The  fundamental 
principle  recognized  is  Reason — Tao;  that  essence  lying  at  the 
basis  of  the  whole,  which  effects  everything.  To  become  ac- 
quainted with  its  forms  is  regarded  among  the  Chinese  also 
as  the  highest  science;  yet  this  has  no  connection  with  the 
educational  pursuits  which  more  nearly  concern  the  State.  The 
works  of  Lao-tse,  and  especially  his  work  "  Tao-te-King,"  are 
celebrated.  Confucius  visited  this  philosopher  in  the  sixth  cen- 
tury before  Christ,  to  testify  his  reverence  for  him.  Although 
every  Chinaman  is  at  liberty  to  study  these  philosophical  works, 
a  particular  sect,  calling  itself  Tao-tse,  "  Honorers  of  Reason," 
makes  this  study  its  special  business.  Those  who  compose  it 
are  isolated  from  civil  life;  and  there  is  much  that  is  enthusi- 
astic and  mystic  intermingled  with  their  views.  They  believe, 
for  instance,  that  he  who  is  acquainted  with  Reason,  possesses 
an  instrument  of  universal  power,  which  may  be  regarded  as 
all-powerful,  and  which  communicates  a  supernatural  might; 
so  that  the  possessor  is  enabled  by  it  to  exalt  himself  to  Heaven, 
and  is  not  subject  to  death  (much  the  same  as  the  universal 
Elixir  of  Life  once  talked  of  among  us).  With  the  works  of 
Confucius  we  have  become  more  intimately  acquainted.  To 
him,  China  owes  the  publication  of  the  Kings,  and  many  orig- 
inal works  on  Morality  besides,  which  form  the  basis  of  the 
customs  and  conduct  of  the  Chinese.  In  the  principal  work  of 
Confucius,  which  has  been  translated  into  English,  are  found 
correct  moral  apophthegms;  but  there  is  a  circumlocution,  a 
reflex  character,  and  circuitousness  in  the  thought,  which  pre- 
vents it  from  rising  above  mediocrity.  As  to  the  other  sciences, 
they  are  not  regarded  as  such,  but  rather  as  branches  of  knowl- 
edge for  the  behoof  of  practical  ends.  The  Chinese  are  far 
behind  in  Mathematics,  Physics,  and  Astronomy,  notwithstand- 

*  Vide  Hegel's  "  Vorlesungen  uber  die  Geschichte   der   Philosophic,"  vol.   i.   p. 
J38,  etc. 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  137 

ing  their  quondam  reputation  in  regard  to  them.  They  knew 
many  things  at  a  time  when  Europeans  had  not  discovered 
them,  but  they  have  not  understood  how  to  apply  their  knowl- 
edge :  as  e.g.  the  Magnet,  and  the  Art  of  Printing.  But  they 
have  made  no  advance  in  the  application  of  these  discoveries. 
In  the  latter,  for  instance,  they  continue  to  engrave  the  letters 
in  wooden  blocks  and  then  print  them  off :  they  know  nothing 
of  movable  types.  Gunpowder,  too,  they  pretended  to  have  in- 
vented before  the  Europeans;  but  the  Jesuits  were  obliged  to 
found  their  first  cannon.  As  to  Mathematics,  they  understand 
well  enough  how  to  reckon,  but  the  higher  aspect  of  the  science 
is  unknown.  The  Chinese  also  have  long  passed  as  great  as- 
tronomers. Laplace  has  investigated  their  acquisitions  in  this 
department,  and  discovered  that  they  possess  some  ancient  ac- 
counts and  notices  of  Lunar  and  Solar  Eclipses ;  but  these  cer- 
tainly do  not  constitute  a  science.  The  notices  in  question  are, 
moreover,  so  indefinite,  that  they  cannot  properly  be  put  in  the 
category  of  knowledge.  In  the  Shu-King,  e.g.  we  have  two 
eclipses  of  the  sun  mentioned  in  the  space  of  1,500  years. 
The  best  evidence  of  the  state  of  Astronomy  among  the  Chi- 
nese, is  the  fact  that  for  many  hundred  years  the  Chinese  cal- 
endars have  been  made  by  Europeans.  In  earlier  times,  when 
Chinese  astronomers  continued  to  compose  the  calendar,  false 
announcements  of  lunar  and  solar  eclipses  often  occurred,  en- 
tailing the  execution  of  the  authors.  The  telescopes  which  the 
Chinese  have  received  as  presents  from  the  Europeans,  are  set 
up  for  ornament ;  but  they  have  not  an  idea  how  to  make  fur- 
ther use  of  them.  Medicine,  too,  is  studied  by  the  Chinese,  but 
only  empirically;  and  the  grossest  superstition  is  connected 
with  its  practice.  The  Chinese  have  as  a  general  characteristic, 
a  remarkable  skill  in  imitation,  which  is  exercised  not  merely 
in  daily  life,  but  also  in  art.  They  have  not  yet  succeeded  in 
representing  the  beautiful,  as  beautiful ;  for  in  their  painting, 
perspective  and  shadow  are  wanting.  And  although  a  Chinese 
painter  copies  European  pictures  (as  the  Chinese  do  everything 
else)  correctly;  although  he  observes  accurately  how  many 
scales  a  carp  has ;  how  many  indentations  there  are  in  the  leaves 
of  a  tree;  what  is  the  form  of  various  trees,  and  how  the 
branches  bend; — the  Exalted,  the  Ideal  and  Beautiful  is  not 
the  domain  of  his  art  and  skill.  The  Chinese  are,  on  the  other 
hand,  too  proud  to  learn  anything  from  Europeans,  although 


138  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

they  must  often  recognize  their  superiority.  "A  merchant  in 
Canton  had  a  European  ship  built,  but  at  the  command  of  the 
Governor  it  was  immediately  destroyed.  The  Europeans  are 
treated  as  beggars,  because  they  are  compelled  to  leave  their 
home,  and  seek  for  support  elsewhere  than  in  their  own  coun- 
try. Besides,  the  Europeans,  just  because  of  their  intelligence, 
have  not  yet  been  able  to  imitate  the  superficial  and  perfectly 
natural  cleverness  of  the  Chinese.  Their  preparation  of  var- 
nishes— their  working  of  metals,  and  especially  their  art  of  cast- 
ing them  extremely  thin — their  porcelain  manufacture  and 
many  other  things,  have  not  yet  been  completely  mastered  by 
Europeans. 

This  is  the  character  of  the  Chinese  people  in  its  various  as- 
pects. Its  distinguishing  feature  is,  that  everything  which 
belongs  to  Spirit — unconstrained  morality,  in  practice  and  the- 
ory, Heart,  inward  Religion,  Science  and  Art  properly  so- 
called — is  alien  to  it.  The  Emperor  always  speaks  with  maj- 
esty and  paternal  kindness  and  tenderness  to  the  people ;  who, 
however,  cherish  the  meanest  opinion  of  themselves,  and  be- 
lieve that  they  are  born  only  to  drag  the  car  of  Imperial  Power. 
The  burden  which  presses  them  to  the  ground,  seems  to  them 
to  be  their  inevitable  destiny ;  and  it  appears  nothing  terrible 
to  them  to  sell  themselves  as  slaves,  and  to  eat  the  bitter  bread 
of  slavery.  Suicide,  the  result  of  revenge,  and  the  exposure 
of  children,  as  a  common,  even  daily  occurrence,  show  the  little 
respect  in  which  they  hold  themselves  individually,  and  human- 
ity in  general.  And  though  there  is  no  distinction  conferred 
by  birth,  and  everyone  can  attain  the  highest  dignity,  this  very 
equality  testifies  to  no  triumphant  assertion  of  the  worth  of  the 
inner  man,  but  a  servile  consciousness — one  which  has  not  yet 
matured  itself  so  far  as  to  recognize  distinctions. 


SECTION  II 

INDIA 

INDIA,  like  China,  is  a  phenomenon  antique  as  well  as  mod- 
ern ;  one  which  has  remained  stationary  and  fixed,  and  has 
received  a  most  perfect  home-sprung  development.  It  has 
always  been  the  land  of  imaginative  aspiration,,  and  appears 
to  us  still  as  a  Fairy  region,  an  enchanted  World.  In  contrast 
with  the  Chinese  State,  which  presents  only  the  most  prosaic 
Understanding,  India  is  the  region  of  phantasy  and  sensibility. 
The  point  of  advance  in  principle  which  it  exhibits  to  us  may 
be  generally  stated  as  follows : — In  China  the  patriarchal  prin- 
ciple rules  a  people  in  a  condition  of  nonage,  the  part  of  whose 
moral  resolution  is  occupied  by  the  regulating  law,  and  the 
moral  oversight  of  the  Emperor.  Now  it  is  the  interest  of 
Spirit  that  external  conditions  should  become  internal  ones; 
that  the  natural  and  the  spiritual  World  should  be  recognized 
in  the  subjective  aspect  belonging  to  intelligence;  by  which 
process  the  unity  of  subjectivity  and  [positive]  Being  generally 
— or  the  Idealism  of  Existence — is  established.  This  Idealism, 
then,  is  found  in  India,  but  only  as  an  Idealism  of  imagination, 
without  distinct  conceptions; — one  which  does  indeed  free  ex- 
istence from  Beginning  and  Matter  [liberates  it  from  temporal 
limitations  and  gross  materiality] ,  but  changes  everything  into 
the  merely  Imaginative ;  for  although  the  latter  appears  inter- 
woven with  definite  conceptions  and  Thought  presents  itself 
as  an  occasional  concomitant,  this  happens  only  through  acci- 
dental combination.  Since,  however,  it  is  the  abstract  and 
absolute  Thought  itself  that  enters  into  these  dreams  as  their 
material,  we  may  say  that  Absolute  Being  is  presented  here 
as  in  the  ecstatic  state  of  a  dreaming  condition.  For  we  have 
not  the  dreaming  of  an  actual  Individual,  possessing  distinct 
personality,  and  simply  unfettering  the  latter  from  limitation, 
but  we  have  the  dreaming  of  the  unlimited  absolute  Spirit. 

139 


i4o  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

There  is  a  beauty  of  a  peculiar  kind  in  women,  in  which  their 
countenance  presents  a  transparency  of  skin,  a  light  and  lovely 
roseate  hue,  which  is  unlike  the  complexion  of  mere  health 
and  vital  vigor — a  more  refined  bloom,  breathed,  as  it  were, 
by  the  soul  within — and  in  which  the  features,  the  light  of  the 
eye,  the  position  of  the  mouth,  appear  soft,  yielding,  and  re- 
laxed. This  almost  unearthly  beauty  is  perceived  in  women  in 
those  days  which  immediately  succeed  child-birth;  when  free- 
dom from  the  burden  of  pregnancy  and  the  pains  of  travail  is 
added  to  the  joy  of  soul  that  welcomes  the  gift  of  a  beloved 
infant.  A  similar  tone  of  beauty  is  seen  also  in  women  during 
the  magical  somnambulic  sleep,  connecting  them  with  a  world 
of  superterrestrial  beauty.  A  great  artist  (Schoreel)  has  more- 
over given  this  tone  to  the  dying  Mary,  whose  spirit  is  already 
rising  to  the  regions  of  the  blessed,  but  once  more,  as  it  were, 
lights  up  her  dying  countenance  for  a  farewell  kiss.  Such  a 
beauty  we  find  also  in  its  loveliest  form  in  the  Indian  World; 
a  beauty  of  enervation  in  which  all  that  is  rough,  rigid,  and 
contradictory  is  dissolved,  and  we  have  only  the  soul  in  a  state 
of  emotion — a  soul,  however,  in  which  the  death  of  free  self- 
reliant  Spirit  is  perceptible.  For  should  we  approach  the  charm 
of  this  Flower-life — a  charm  rich  in  imagination  and  genius — 
in  which  its  whole  environment  and  all  its  relations  are  perme- 
ated by  the  rose-breath  of  the  Soul,  and  the  World  is  trans- 
formed into  a  Garden  of  Love — should  we  look  at  it  more 
closely,  and  examine  it  in  the  light  of  Human  Dignity  and 
Freedom — the  more  attractive  the  first  sight  of  it  had  been, 
so  much  the  more  unworthy  shall  we  ultimately  find  it  in 
every  respect. 

The  character  of  Spirit  in  a  state  of  Dream,  as  the  generic 
principle  of  the  Hindoo  Nature,  must  be  further  defined.  In 
a  dream,  the  individual  ceases  to  be  conscious  of  self  as  such, 
in  contradistinction  from  objective  existences.  When  awake, 
I  exist  for  myself,  and  the  rest  of  creation  is  an  external,  fixed 
objectivity,  as  I  myself  am  for  it.  As  external,  the  rest  of 
existence  expands  itself  to  a  rationally  connected  whole ;  a 
system  of  relations,  in  which  my  individual  being  is  itself  a 
member — an  individual  being  united  with  that  totality.  This 
is  the  sphere  of  Understanding.  In  the  state  of  dreaming,  on 
the  contrary,  this  separation  is  suspended.  Spirit  has  ceased 
to  exist  for  itself  in  contrast  with  alien  existence,  and  thus  the 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  141 

separation  of  the  external  and  individual  dissolves  before  its 
universality — its  essence.  The  dreaming  Indian  is  therefore  all 
that  we  call  finite  and  individual;  and,  at  the  same  time — as 
infinitely  universal  and  unlimited — a  something  intrinsically 
divine.  The  Indian  view  of  things  is  a  Universal  Pantheism, 
a  Pantheism,  however,  of  Imagination,  not  of  Thought.  One 
substance  pervades  the  Whole  of  things,  and  all  individualiza- 
tions are  directly  vitalized  and  animated  into  particular  Powers. 
The  sensuous  matter  and  content  are  in  each  case  simply  and  in 
the  rough  taken  up,  and  carried  over  into  the  sphere  of  the 
Universal  and  Immeasurable.  It  is  not  liberated  by  the  free 
power  of  Spirit  into  a  beautiful  form,  and  idealized  in  the 
Spirit,  so  that  the  sensuous  might  be  a  merely  subservient  and 
compliant  expression  of  the  spiritual ;  but  [the  sensuous  object 
itself]  is  expanded  into  the  immeasurable  and  undefined,  and 
the  Divine  is  thereby  made  bizarre,  confused,  and  ridiculous. 
These  dreams  are  not  mere  fables — a  play  of  the  imagination, 
in  which  the  soul  only  revelled  in  fantastic  gambols:  it  is  lost 
in  them ;  hurried  to  and  fro  by  these  reveries,  as  by  something 
that  exists  really  and  seriously  for  it.  It  is  delivered  over  to 
these  limited  objects  as  to  its  Lords  and  Gods.  Everything, 
therefore — Sun,  Moon,  Stars,  the  Ganges,  the  Indus,  Beasts, 
Flowers — everything  is  a  God  to  it..  And  while,  in  this  deifica- 
tion, the  finite  loses  its  consistency  and  substantiality,  intelli- 
gent conception  of  it  is  impossible.  Conversely  the  Divine, 
regarded  as  essentially  changeable  and  unfixed,  is  also  by  the 
base  form  which  it  assumes,  defiled  and  made  absurd.  In  this 
universal  deification  of  all  finite  existence,  and  consequent 
degradation  of  the  Divine,  the  idea  of  Theanthropy,  the  incar- 
nation of  God,  is  not  a  particularly  important  conception.  The 
parrot,  the  cow,  the  ape,  etc.,  are  likewise  incarnations  of  God, 
yet  are  not  therefore  elevated  above  their  nature.  The  Divine 
is  not  individualized  to  a  subject,  to  concrete  Spirit,  but  de- 
graded to  vulgarity  and  senselessness.  This  gives  us  a  general 
idea  of  the  Indian  view  of  the  Universe.  Things  are  as  much 
stripped  of  rationality,  of  finite  consistent  stability  of  cause  and 
effect,  as  man  is  of  the  steadfastness  of  free  individuality,  of 
personality,  and  freedom. 

Externally,  India  sustains  manifold  relations  to  the  History 
of  the  World.  In  recent  times  the  discovery  has  been  made, 
that  the  Sanscrit  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  those  further 


i42  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

developments  which  form  the  languages  of  Europe;  e.g.  the 
Greek,  Latin,  German.  India,  moreover,  was  the  centre  of 
emigration  for  all  the  western  world ;  but  this  external  histor- 
ical relation  is  to  be  regarded  rather  as  a  merely  physical 
diffusion  of  peoples  from  this  point.  Although  in  India  the 
elements  of  further  developments  might  be  discovered,  and  al- 
though we  could  find  traces  of  their  being  transmitted  to  the 
West,  this  transmission  has  been  nevertheless  so  abstract  [so 
superficial],  that  that  which  among  later  peoples  attracts  our 
interest,  is  not  anything  derived  from  India,  but  rather  some- 
thing concrete,  which  they  themselves  have  formed,  and  in  re- 
gard to  which  they  have  done  their  best  to  forget  Indian  ele- 
ments of  culture.  The  spread  of  Indian  culture  is  prehistorical, 
for  History  is  limited  to  that  which  makes  an  essential  epoch 
in  the  development  of  Spirit.  On  the  whole,  the  diffusion  of 
Indian  culture  is  only  a  dumb,  deedless  expansion;  that  is,  it 
presents  no  political  action.  The  people  of  India  have  achieved 
no  foreign  conquests,  but  have  been  on  every  occasion  van- 
quished themselves.  And  as  in  this  silent  way,  Northern  India 
has  been  a  centre  of  emigration,  productive  of  merely  physical 
diffusion,  India  as  a  Land  of  Desire  forms  an  essential  element 
in  General  History.  From  the  most  ancient  times  downwards, 
all  nations  have  directed  their  wishes  and  longings  to  gaining 
access  to  the  treasures  of  this  land  of  marvels,  the  most  costly 
which  the  Earth  presents;  treasures  of  Nature — pearls,  dia- 
monds, perfumes,  rose-essences,  elephants,  lions,  etc. — as  also 
treasures  of  wisdom.  The  way  by  which  these  treasures  have 
passed  to  the  West,  has  at  all  times  been  a  matter  of  World- 
historical  importance,  bound  up  with  the  fate  of  nations.  Those 
wishes  have  been  realized ;  this  Land  of  Desire  has  been  at- 
tained ;  there  is  scarcely  any  great  nation  of  the  East,  nor  of 
the  Modern  European  West,  that  has  not  gained  for  itself  a 
smaller  or  larger  portion  of  it.  In  the  old  world,  Alexander 
the  Great  was  the  first  to  penetrate  by  land  to  India,  but  even 
he  only  just  touched  it.  The  Europeans  of  the  modern  world 
have  been  able  to  enter  into  direct  connection  with  this  land 
of  marvels  only  circuitously  from  the  other  side ;  and  by  way 
of  the  sea,  which,  as  has  been  said,  is  the  general  uniter  of  coun- 
tries. The  English,  or  rather  the  East  India  Company,  are  the 
lords  of  the  land;  for  it  is  the  necessary  fate  of  Asiatic  Em- 
pires to  be  subjected  to  Europeans ;  and  China  will,  some  day 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  143 

or  other,  be  obliged  to  submit  to  this  fate.  The  number  of  in- 
habitants is  near  200,000,000,  of  whom  from  100,000,000  to 
112,000,000  are  directly  subject  to  the  English.  The  Princes 
who  are  not  immediately  subject  to  them  have  English  Agents 
at  their  Courts,  and  English  troops  in.  their  pay.  Since  the 
country  of  the  Mahrattas  was  conquered  by  the  English,  no 
part  of  India  has  asserted  its  independence  of  their  sway.  They 
have  already  gained  a  footing  in  the  Burman  Empire,  and 
passed  the  Brahmaputra,  which  bounds  India  on  the  east. 

India  Proper  is  the  country  which  the  English  divide  into 
two  large  sections :  the  Deccan — the  great  peninsula  which  has 
the  Bay  of  Bengal  on  the  east,  and  the  Indian  Sea  on  the  west — 
and  Hindostan,  formed  by  the  valley  of  the  Ganges,  and  ex- 
tending in  the  direction  of  Persia.  To  the  northeast,  Hin- 
dostan is  bordered  by  the  Himalaya,  which  has  been  ascer- 
tained by  Europeans  to  be  the  highest  mountain  range  in  the 
world,  for  its  summits  are  about  26,000  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea.  On  the  other  side  of  the  mountains  the  level  again 
declines;  the  dominion  of  the  Chinese  extends  to  that  point, 
and  when  the  English  wished  to  go  to  Lassa  to  the  Dalai-Lama, 
they  were  prevented  by  the  Chinese.  Towards  the  west  of 
India  flows  the  Indus,  in  which  the  five  rivers  are  united,  which 
are  called  the  Pent  jab  (Punjab),  into  which  Alexander  the 
Great  penetrated.  The  dominion  of  the  English  does  not  ex- 
tend to  the  Indus ;  the  sect  of  the  Sikhs  inhabits  that  district, 
whose  constitution  is  thoroughly  democratic,  and  who  have 
broken  off  from  the  Indian  as  well  as  from  the  Mohammedan 
religion,  and  occupy  an  intermediate  ground — acknowledging 
only  one  Supreme  Being.  They  are  a  powerful  nation,  and 
have  reduced  to  subjection  Cabul  and  Cashmere.  Besides  these 
there  dwell  along  the  Indus  genuine  Indian  tribes  of  the  War- 
rior-Caste. Between  the  Indus  and  its  twin-brother,  the  Gan- 
ges, are  great  plains.  The  Ganges,  on  the  other  hand,  forms 
large  Kingdoms  around  it,  in  which  the  sciences  have  been  so 
highly  developed,  that  the  countries  around  the  Ganges  enjoy  a 
still  greater  reputation  than  those  around  the  Indus.  The  King- 
dom of  Bengal  is  especially  flourishing.  The  Nerbuddah  forms 
the  boundary  between  the  Deccan  and  Hindostan.  The  penin- 
sula of  the  Deccan  presents  a  far  greater  variety  than  Hindo- 
stan, and  its  rivers  possess  almost  as  great  a  sanctity  as  the 
Indus  and  the  Ganges — which  latter  has  become  a  general  name 


144  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

for  all  the  rivers  in  India,  as  the  River  tear  l^oyfyv.  We  call 
the  inhabitants  of  the  great  country  which  we  have  now  to 
consider  Indians,  from  the  river  Indus  (the  English  call  them 
Hindoos).  They  themselves  have  never  given  a  name  to  the 
whole,  for  it  has  never  become  one  Empire,  and  yet  we  consider 
it  as  such. 

With  regard  to  the  political  life  of  the  Indians,  we  must  first 
consider  the  advance  it  presents  in  contrast  with  China.  In 
China  there  prevailed  an  equality  among  all  the  individuals 
composing  the  empire;  consequently  all  government  was  ab- 
sorbed in  its  centre,  the  Emperor,  so  that  individual  members 
could  not  attain  to  independence  and  subjective  freedom.  The 
next  degree  in  advance  of  this  Unity  is  Difference,  maintaining 
its  independence  against  the  all-subduing  power  of  Unity.  An 
organic  life  requires  in  the  first  place  One  Soul,  and  in  the 
second  place,  a  divergence  into  differences,  which  become  or- 
ganic members,  and  in  their  several  offices  develop  themselves 
to  a  complete  system ;  in  such  a  way,  however,  that  their  activ- 
ity reconstitutes  that  one  soul.  This  freedom  of  separation  is 
wanting  in  China.  The  deficiency  is  that  diversities  cannot 
attain  to  independent  existence.  In  this  respect,  the  essential 
advance  is  made  in  India,  viz. :  that  independent  members 
ramify  from  the  unity  of  despotic  power.  Yet  the  distinctions 
which  these  imply  are  referred  to  Nature.  Instead  of  stimu- 
lating the  activity  of  a  soul  as  their  centre  of  union,  and  spon- 
taneously realizing  that  soul — as  is  the  case  in  organic  life 
— they  petrify  and  become  rigid,  and  by  their  stereotyped  char- 
acter condemn  the  Indian  people  to  the  most  degrading  spir- 
itual serfdom.  The  distinctions  in  question  are  the  Castes.  In 
every  rational  State  there  are  distinctions  which  must  manifest 
themselves.  Individuals  must  arrive  at  subjective  freedom,  and 
in  doing  so,  give  an  objective  form  to  these  diversities.  But 
Indian  culture  has  not  attained  to  a  recognition  of  freedom 
and  inward  morality;  the  distinctions  which  prevail  are  only 
those  of  occupations,  and  civil  conditions.  In  a  free  state  also, 
such  diversities  give  rise  to  particular  classes,  so  combined, 
however,  that  their  members  can  maintain  their  individuality. 
In  India  we  have  only  a  division  in  masses — a  division,  how- 
ever, that  influences  the  whole  political  life  and  the  religious 
consciousness.  The  distinctions  of  class,  like  that  [rigid]  Unity 
in  China,  remain  consequently  on  the  same  original  grade  of 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  145 

substantiality,  i.e.  they  are  not  the  result  of  the  free  subjec- 
tivity of  individuals.  Examining  the  idea  of  a  State  and  its 
various  functions,  we  recognize  the  first  essential  function  as 
that  whose  scope  is  the  absolutely  Universal;  of  which  man 
becomes  conscious  first  in  Religion,  then  in  Science.  God,  the 
Divine  [to  Qelov]  is  the  absolutely  Universal.  The  highest 
class  therefore  will  be  the  one  by  which  the  Divine  is  presented 
and  brought  to  bear  on  the  community — the  class  of  Brahmins. 
The  second  element  or  class,  will  represent  subjective  power 
and  valor.  Such  power  must  assert  itself,  in  order  that  the 
whole  may  stand  its  ground,  and  retain  its  integrity  against 
other  such  totalities  or  states.  This  class  is  that  of  the  Warriors 
and  Governors — the  Cshatriyas;  although  Brahmins  often  be- 
come governors.  The  third  order  of  occupation  recognized  is 
that  which  is  concerned  with  the  specialities  of  life — the  satis- 
fying of  its  necessities — and  comprehends  agriculture,  crafts 
and  trade ;  the  class  of  the  Vaisyas.  Lastly,  the  fourth  element 
is  the  class  of  service,  the  mere  instrument  for  the  comfort  of 
others,  whose  business  it  is  to  work  for  others  for  wages  af- 
fording a  scanty  subsistence — the  caste  of  Sudras.  This  servile 
class — properly  speaking — constitutes  no  special  organic  class 
in  the  state,  because  its  members  only  serve  individuals:  their 
occupations  are  therefore  dispersed  among  them  and  are  con- 
sequently attached  to  that  of  the  previously  mentioned  castes. — 
Against  the  existence  of  "  classes  "  generally,  an  objection  has 
been  brought — especially  in  modern  times — drawn  from  the 
consideration  of  the  State  in  its  "aspect"  of  abstract  equity. 
But  equality  in  civil  life  is  something  absolutely  impossible; 
for  individual  distinctions  of  sex  and  age  will  always  assert 
themselves ;  and  even  if  an  equal  share  in  the  government  is 
accorded  to  all  citizens,  women  and  children  are  immediately 
passed  by,  and  remain  excluded.  The  distinction  between  pov- 
erty and  riches,  the  influence  of  skill  and  talent,  can  be  as  little 
ignored — utterly  refuting  those  abstract  assertions.  But  while 
this  principle  leads  us  to  put  up  with  variety  of  occupations,  and 
distinction  of  the  classes  to  which  they  are  intrusted,  we  are 
met  here  in  India  by  the  peculiar  circumstance  that  the  indi- 
vidual belongs  to  such  a  class  essentially  by  birth,  and  is  bound 
to  it  for  life.  All  the  concrete  vitality  that  makes  its  appear- 
ance sinks  back  into  death.  A  chain  binds  down  the  life  that 
was  just  upon  the  point  of  breaking  forth.     The  promise  of 


x46  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

freedom  which  these  distinctions  hold  out  is  therewith  com- 
pletely nullified.  What  birth  has  separated  mere  arbitrary 
choice  has  no  right  to  join  together  again :  therefore,  the  castes 
preserving  distinctness  from  their  very  origin,  are  presumed 
not  to  be  mixed  or  united  by  marriage.  Yet  even  Arrian  (Ind. 
II )  reckoned  seven  castes,  and  in  later  times  more  than  thirty 
have  been  made  out ;  which,  notwithstanding  all  obstacles,  have 
arisen  from  the  union  of  the  various  classes.  Polygamy  neces- 
sarily tends  to  this.  A  Brahmin,  e.g.  is  allowed  three  wives 
from  the  three  other  castes,  provided  he  has  first  taken  one 
from  his  own.  The  offspring  of  such  mixtures  originally  be- 
longed to  no  caste,  but  one  of  the  kings  invented  a  method  of 
classifying  these  casteless  persons,  which  involved  also  the  com- 
mencement of  arts  and  manufactures.  The  children  in  question 
were  assigned  to  particular  employments;  one  section  became 
weavers,  another  wrought  in  iron,  and  thus  different  classes 
arose  from  these  different  occupations.  The  highest  of  these 
mixed  castes  consists  of  those  who  are  born  from  the  marriage 
of  a  Brahmin  with  a  wife  of  the  Warrior  caste;  the  lowest 
is  that  of  the  Chandalas,  who  have  to  remove  corpses,  to  exe- 
cute criminals,  and  to  perform  impure  offices  generally.  The 
members  of  this  caste  are  excommunicated  and  detested;  and 
are  obliged  to  live  separate  and  far  from  association  with  others. 
The  Chandalas  are  obliged  to  move  out  of  the  way  for  their 
superiors,  and  a  Brahmin  may  knock  down  any  that  neglect 
to  do  so.  If  a  Chandala  drinks  out  of  a  pond  it  is  defiled,  and 
requires  to  be  consecrated  afresh. 

We  must  next  consider  the  relative  position  of  these  castes. 
Their  origin  is  referred  to  a  myth,  which  tells  us  that  the 
Brahmin  caste  proceeded  from  Brahma's  mouth ;  the  Warrior 
caste  from  his  arms ;  the  industrial  classes  from  his  loins ;  the 
servile  caste  from  his  foot.  Many  historians  have  set  up  the 
hypothesis  that  the  Brahmins  originally  formed  a  separate 
sacerdotal  nation,  and  this  fable  is  especially  countenanced  by 
the  Brahmins  themselves.  A  people  consisting  of  priests  alone 
is,  assuredly,  the  greatest  absurdity,  for  we  know  a  priori,  that 
a  distinction  of  classes  can  exist  only  within  a  people ;  in  every 
nation  the  various  occupations  of  life  must  present  themselves, 
for  they  belong  to  the  objectivity  of  Spirit.  One  class  necessarily 
supposes  another,  and  the  rise  of  castes  generally,  is  only  a  re- 
sult of  the  united  life  of  a  nation.    A  nation  of  priests  cannot 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  147 

exist  without  agriculturists  and  soldiers.  Classes  cannot  be 
brought  together  from  without ;  they  are  developed  only  from 
within.  They  come  forth  from  the  interior  of  national  life, 
and  not  conversely.  But  that  these  distinctions  are  here  attrib- 
uted to  Nature,  is  a  necessary  result  of  the  Idea  which  the  East 
embodies.  For  while  the  individual  ought  properly  to  be  em- 
powered to  choose  his  occupation,  in  the  East,  on  the  contrary, 
internal  subjectivity  is  not  yet  recognized  as  independent;  and 
if  distinction  obtrude  themselves,  their  recognition  is  accom- 
panied by  the  belief  that  the  individual  does  not  choose  his  par- 
ticular position  for  himself,  but  receives  it  from  Nature.  In 
China  the  people  are  dependent — without  distinction  of  classes 
— on  the  laws  and  moral  decision  of  the  Emperor ;  consequently 
on  a  human  will.  Plato,  in  his  Republic,  assigns  the  arrange- 
ment in  different  classes  with  a  view  to  various  occupations, 
to  the  choice  of  the  governing  body.  Here,  therefore,  a  moral, 
a  spiritual  power  is  the  arbiter.  In  India,  Nature  is  this  gov- 
erning power.  But  this  natural  destiny  need  not  have  led  to 
that  degree  of  degradation  which  we  observe  here,  if  the  dis- 
tinctions had  been  limited  to  occupation  with  what  is  earthly — 
to  forms  of  objective  Spirit.  In  the  feudalism  of  mediaeval 
times,  individuals  were  also  confined  to  a  certain  station  in  life ; 
but  for  all  there  was  a  Higher  Being,  superior  to  the  most 
exalted  earthly  dignity,  and  admission  to  holy  orders  was  open 
to  all.  This  is  the  grand  distinction,  that  here  Religion  holds 
the  same  position  towards  all;  that,  although  the  son  of  a 
mechanic  becomes  a  mechanic,  the  son  of  a  peasant  a  peasant, 
and  free  choice  is  often  limited  by  many  restrictive  circum- 
stances, the  religions  element  stands  in  the  same  relation  to  all, 
and  all  are  invested  with  an  absolute  value  by  religion.  In 
India  the  direct  contrary  is  the  case.  Another  distinction  be- 
tween the  classes  of  society  as  they  exist  in  the  Christian  world 
and  those  in  Hindostan  is  the  moral  dignity  which  exists  among 
us  in  every  class,  constituting  that  which  man  must  possess 
in  and  through  himself.  In  this  respect  the  higher  classes  are 
equal  to  the  lower;  and  while  religion  is  the  higher  sphere  in 
which  all  sun  themselves,  equality  before  the  law — rights  of 
person  and  of  property — are  gained  for  every  class.  But  by 
the  fact  that  in  India,  as  already  observed,  differences  extend 
not  only  to  the  objectivity  of  Spirit,  but  also  to  its  absolute 
subjectivity,  and  thus  exhaust  all  its  relations — neither  moral- 
ity, nor  justice,  nor  religiosity  is  to  be  found. 


148  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

Every  caste  has  its  especial  duties  and  rights.  Duties  and 
rights,  therefore,  are  not  recognized  as  pertaining  to  mankind 
generally,  but  as  those  of  a  particular  caste.  While  we  say, 
"  Bravery  is  a  virtue,"  the  Hindoos  say,  on  the  contrary,  "  Bra- 
very is  the  virtue  of  the  Cshatryas."  Humanity  generally,  hu- 
man duty  and  human  feeling  do  not  manifest  themselves;  we 
find  only  duties  assigned  to  the  several  castes.  Everything  is 
petrified  into  these  distinctions,  and  over  this  petrifaction  a 
capricious  destiny  holds  sway.  Morality  and  human  dignity 
are  unknown ;  evil  passions  have  their  full  swing ;  the  Spirit 
wanders  into  the  Dream- World,  and  the  highest  state  is  An- 
nihilation. 

To  gain  a  more  accurate  idea  of  what  the  Brahmins  are,  and 
in  what  the  BrahminiCal  dignity  consists,  we  must  investigate 
the  Hindoo  religion  and  the  conceptions  it  involves,  to  which 
we  shall  have  to  return  further  on;  for  the  respective  rights 
of  castes  have  their  basis  in  a  religious  relation.  Brahma 
(neuter)  is  the  Supreme  in  Religion,  but  there  are  besides 
chief  divinities  Brahma  (masc.)  Vishnu  or  Krishna — incarnate 
in  infinitely  diverse  forms — and  Siva.  These  form  a  connected 
Trinity.  Brahma  is  the  highest ;  but  Vishnu  or  Krishna,  Siva, 
the  Sun  moreover,  the  Air,  etc.,  are  also  Brahm,  i.e.  Substantial 
Unity.  To  Brahm  itself  no  sacrifices  are  offered ;  it  is  not 
honored ;  but  prayers  are  presented  to  all  other  idols.  Brahm 
itself  is  the  Substantial  Unity  of  All.  The  highest  religious 
position  of  man,  therefore  is,  being  exalted  to  Brahm.  If  a 
Brahmin  is  asked  what  Brahm  is,  he  answers:  When  I  fall 
back  within  myself,  and  close  all  external  senses,  and  say  dm 
to  myself,  that  is  Brahm.  Abstract  unity  with  God  is  realized 
in  this  abstraction  from  humanity.  An  abstraction  of  this  kind 
may  in  some  cases  leave  everything  else  unchanged,  as  does 
devotional  feeling,  momentarily  excited.  But  among  the  Hin- 
doos it  holds  a  negative  position  towards  all  that  is  concrete; 
and  the  highest  state  is  supposed  to  be  this  exaltation,  by  which 
the  Hindoo  raises  himself  to  deity.  The  Brahmins,  in  virtue 
of  their  birth,  are  already  in  possession  of  the  Divine.  The 
distinction  of  castes  involves,  therefore,  a  distinction  between 
present  deities  and  mere  limited  mortals.  The  other  castes  may 
likewise  become  partakers  in  a  Regeneration;  but  they  must 
subject  themselves  to  immense  self-denial,  torture  and  penance. 
Contempt  of  life,  and  of  living  humanity,  is  the  chief  feature 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  i49 

in  this  ascesis.  A  large  number  of  the  non-Brahminical  popu- 
lation strive  to  attain  Regeneration.  They  are  called  Yogis. 
An  Englishman  who,  on  a  journey  to  Thibet  to  visit  the  Dalai- 
Lama,  met  such  a  Yogi,  gives  the  following  account :  The  Yogi 
was  already  on  the  second  grade  in  his  ascent  to  Brahminical 
dignity.  He  had  passed  the  first  grade  by  remaining  for  twelve 
years  on  his  legs,  without  ever  sitting  or  lying  down.  At  first 
he  had  bound  himself  fast  to  a  tree  with  a  rope,  until  he  had 
accustomed  himself  to  sleep  standing.  The  second  grade  re- 
quired him  to  keep  his  hands  clasped  together  over  his  head 
for  twelve  years  in  succession.  Already  his  nails  had  almost 
grown  into  his  hands.  The  third  grade  is  not  always  passed 
through  in  the  same  way;  generally  the  Yogi  has  to  spend  a 
day  between  five  fires,  that  is,  between  four  fires  occupying  the 
four  quarters  of  heaven,  and  the  Sun.  He  must  then  swing 
backwards  and  forwards  over  the  fire,  a  ceremony  occupying 
three  hours  and  three-quarters.  Englishmen  present  at  an  act 
of  this  kind,  say  that  in  half  an  hour  the  blood  streamed  forth 
from  every  part  of  the  devotee's  body ;  he  was  taken  down  and 
presently  died.  If  this  trial  is  also  surmounted,  the  aspirant 
is  finally  buried  alive,  that  is  put  into  the  ground  in  an  upright 
position  and  quite  covered  over  with  soil;  after  three  hours 
and  three-quarters  he  is  drawn  out,  and  if  he  lives,  he  is  sup- 
posed to  have  at  last  attained  the  spiritual  power  of  a  Brahmin. 
Thus  only  by  such  negation  of  his  existence  does  anyone 
attain  Brahminical  power.  In  its  highest  degree  this  negation 
consists  in  a  sort  of  hazy  consciousness  of  having  attained  per- 
fect mental  immobility — the  annihilation  of  all  emotion  and  all 
volition ; — a  condition  which  is  regarded  as  the  highest  among 
the  Buddhists  also.  However  pusillanimous  and  effeminate 
the  Hindoos  may  be  in  other  respects,  it  is  evident  how  littlo- 
they  hesitate  to  sacrifice  themselves  to  the  Highest — to  Annihi- 
lation. Another  instance  of  the  same  is  the  fact  of  wives  burn- 
ing themselves  after  the  death  of  their  husbands.  Should  a 
woman  contravene  this  traditional  usage,  she  would  be  severed 
from  society,  and  perish  in  solitude.  An  Englishman  states 
that  he  also  saw  a  woman  burn  herself  because  she  had  lost  her 
child.  He  did  all  that  he  could  to  divert  her  away  from  her 
purpose;  at  last  he  applied  to  her  husband  who  was  standing 
by,  but  he  showed  himself  perfectly  indifferent,  as  he  had  more 
wives  at  home.    Sometimes  twenty  women  are  seen  throwing 


ISO  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

themselves  at  once  into  the  Ganges,  and  on  the  Himalaya 
range  an  English  traveller  found  three  women  seeking  the 
source  of  the  Ganges,  in  order  to  put  an  end  to  their  life  in  this 
holy  river.  At  a  religious  festival  in  the  celebrated  temple 
of  Juggernaut  in  Orissa,  on  the  Bay  of  Bengal,  where  millions 
of  Hindoos  assemble,  the  image  of  the  god  Vishnu  is  drawn 
in  procession  on  a  car :  about  five  hundred  men  set  it  in  motion, 
and  many  fling  themselves  down  before  its  wheels  to  be  crushed 
to  pieces.  The  whole  seashore  is  already  strewed  with  the 
bodies  of  persons  who  have  thus  immolated  themselves.  In- 
fanticide is  also  very  common  in  India.  Mothers  throw  their 
children  into  the  Ganges,  or  let  them  pine  away  under  the  rays 
of  the  sun.  The  morality  which  is  involved  in  respect  for 
human  life  is  not  found  among  the  Hindoos.  There  are  be- 
sides those  already  mentioned,  infinite  modifications  of  the  same 
principle  of  conduct,  all  pointing  to  annihilation.  This,  e.g., 
is  the  leading  principle  of  the  Gymnosophists,  as  the  Greeks 
called  them.  Naked  Fakirs  wander  about  without  any  occupa- 
tion, like  the  mendicant  friars  of  the  Catholic  church;  live  on 
the  alms  of  others,  and  make  it  their  aim  to  reach  the  highest 
degree  of  abstraction — the  perfect  deadening  of  consciousness ; 
a  point  from  which  the  transition  to  physical  death  is  no  great 
step. 

This  elevation  which  others  can  only  attain  by  toilsome  labor 
is,  as  already  stated,  the  birthright  of  the  Brahmins.  The  Hin- 
doo of  another  caste,  must,  therefore,  reverence  the  Brahmin 
as  a  divinity ;  fall  down  before  him,  and  say  to  him :  "  Thou 
art  God."  And  this  elevation  cannot  have  anything  to  do  with 
moral  conduct,  but — inasmuch  as  all  internal  morality  is  ab- 
sent— is  rather  dependent  on  a  farrago  of  observances  relating 
to  the  merest  externalities  and  trivialities  of  existence.  Human 
life,  it  is  said,  ought  to  be  a  perpetual  Worship  of  God.  It  is 
evident  how  hollow  such  general  aphorisms  are,  when  we  con- 
sider the  concrete  forms  which  they  may  assume.  They  require 
another,  a  further  qualification,  if  they  are  to  have  a  meaning. 
The  Brahmins  are  a  present  deity,  but  their  spirituality  has 
not  yet  been  reflected  inwards  in  contrast  with  Nature ;  and 
thus  that  which  is  purely  indifferent  is  treated  as  of  absolute 
importance.  The  employment  of  the  Brahmins  consists  prin- 
cipally in  the  reading  of  the  Vedas :  they  only  have  a  right  to 
read  them.    Were  a  Sudra  to  read  the  Vedas,  or  to  hear  them 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD 


I5i 


read,  he  would  be  severely  punished,  and  burning  oil  must  be 
poured  into  his  ears.  The  external  observances  binding  on  the 
Brahmins  are  prodigiously  numerous,  and  the  Laws  of  Manu 
treat  of  them  as  the  most  essential  part  of  duty.  The  Brahmin 
must  rest  on  one  particular  foot  in  rising,  then  wash  in  a  river ; 
his  hair  and  nails  must  be  cut  in  neat  curves,  his  whole  body 
purified,  his  garments  white;  in  his  hand  must  be  a  staff  of 
a  specified  kind ;  in  his  ears  a  golden  earring.  If  the  Brahmin 
meets  a  man  of  an  inferior  caste,  he  must  turn  back  and  purify 
himself.  He  has  also  to  read  in  the  Vedas,  in  various  ways: 
each  word  separately,  or  doubling  them  alternately,  or  back- 
wards. He  may  not  look  to  the  sun  when  rising  or  setting, 
or  when  overcast  by  clouds  or  reflected  in  the  water.  He  is 
forbidden  to  step  over  a  rope  to  which  a  calf  is  fastened,  or  to 
go  out  when  it  rains.  He  may  not  look  at  his  wife  when  she 
eats,  sneezes,  gapes,  or  is  quietly  seated.  At  the  midday  meal 
he  may  only  have  one  garment  on,  in  bathing  never  be  quite 
naked.  How  minute  these  directions  are  may  be  especially 
judged  of  from  the  observances  binding  on  the  Brahmins 
in  regard  to  satisfying  the  calls  of  nature.  This  is  forbidden 
to  them  in  a  great  thoroughfare,  on  ashes,  on  ploughed  land, 
on  a  hill,  a  nest  of  white  ants,  on  wood  destined  for  fuel,  in  a 
ditch,  walking  or  standing,  on  the  bank  of  a  river,  etc.  At  such 
a  time  they  may  not  look  at  the  sun,  at  water,  or  at  animals. 
By  day  they  should  keep  their  face  generally  directed  to  the 
north,  but  by  night  to  the  south;  only  in  the  shade  are  they 
allowed  to  turn  to  which  quarter  they  like.  It  is  forbidden 
to  everyone  who  desires  a  long  life  to  step  on  potsherds,  cot- 
ton seeds,  ashes,  or  sheaves  of  corn,  or  his  urine.  In  the  episode 
Nala,  in  the  poem  of  Mahabharata,  we  have  a  story  of  a  virgin 
who  in  her  21st  year — the  age  in  which  the  maidens  themselves 
have  a  right  to  choose  a  husband — makes  a  selection  from 
among  her  wooers.  There  are  five  of  them;  but  the  maiden 
remarks  that  four  of  them  do  not  stand  firmly  on  their  feet,  and 
thence  infers  correctly  that  they  are  Gods.  She  therefore 
chooses  the  fifth,  who  is  a  veritable  man.  But  besides  the  four 
despised  divinities  there  are  two  malevolent  ones,  whom  her 
choice  had  not  favored,  and  who  on  that  account  wish  for  re- 
venge. They  therefore  keep  a  strict  watch  on  the  husband 
of  their  beloved  in  every  step  and  act  of  life,  with  the  design 
of  inflicting  injury  upon  him  if  he  commits  a  misdemeanor. 


152 


PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 


The  persecuted  husband  does  nothing  that  can  be  brought 
against  him,  until  at  last  he  is  so  incautious  as  to  step  on  his 
urine.  The  Genius  has  now  an  advantage  over  him ;  he  afflicts 
him  with  a  passion  for  gambling,  and  so  plunges  him  into  the 
abyss. 

While,  on  the  one  hand,  the  Brahmins  are  subject  to  these 
strict  limitations  and  rules,  on  the  other  hand  their  life  is  sacred ; 
it  cannot  answer  for  crimes  of  any  kind ;  and  their  property  is 
equally  secure  from  being  attacked.  The  severest  penalty 
which  the  ruler  can  inflict  upon  them  amounts  to  nothing  more 
than  banishment.  The  English  wished  to  introduce  trial  by 
jury  into  India — the  jury  to  consist  half  of  Europeans,  half  of 
Hindoos — and  submitted  to  the  natives,  whose  wishes  on  the 
subject  were  consulted,  the  powers  with  which  the  panel  would 
be  intrusted.  The  Hindoos  were  for  making  a  number  of  ex- 
ceptions and  limitations.  They  said,  among  other  things,  that 
they  could  not  consent  that  a  Brahmin  should  be  condemned 
to  death ;  not  to  mention  other  objections,  e.g.  that  looking  at 
and  examining  a  corpse  was  out  of  the  question.  Although  in 
the  case  of  a  Warrior  the  rate  of  interest  may  be  as  high  as 
three  per  cent.,  in  that  of  a  Vaisya  four  per  cent.,  a  Brahmin 
is  never  required  to  pay  more  than  two  per  cent.  The  Brahmin 
possesses  such  a  power,  that  Heaven's  lightning  would  strike 
the  King  who  ventured  to  lay  hands  on  him  or  his  property. 
For  the  meanest  Brahmin  is  so  far  exalted  above  the.  King, 
that  he  would  be  polluted  by  conversing  with  him,  and  would 
be  dishonored  by  his  daughters  choosing  a  prince  in  marriage. 
In  Manu's  Code  it  is  said :  "  If  anyone  presumes  to  teach  a 
Brahmin  his  duty,  the  King  must  order  that  hot  oil  be  poured 
into  the  ears  and  mouth  of  such  an  instructor.  If  one  who  is 
only  once-born,  loads  one  who  is  twice-born  with  reproaches, 
a  red  hot  iron  bar  ten  inches  long  shall  be  thrust  into  his 
mouth."  On  the  other  hand  a  Sudra  is  condemned  to  have  a 
red  hot  ir^n  thrust  into  him  from  behind  if  he  rest  himself  in 
the  chair  ot  a  Brahmin,  and  to  have  his  foot  or  his  hand  hewed 
off  if  he  pushes  against  a  Brahmin  with  hands  or  feet.  It  is  even 
permitted  to  give  false  testimony,  and  to  lie  before  a  Court  of 
Justice,  if  a  Brahmin  can  be  thereby  freed  from  condemnation. 

As  the  Brahmins  enjoy  advantages  over  the  other  Castes,  the 
latter  in  their  turn  have  privileges  according  to  precedence, 
over  their  inferiors.     If  a  Sudra  is  defiled  by  contact  with  a 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  153 

Pariah,  he  has  the  right  to  knock  him  down  on  the  spot.  Hu- 
manity on  the  part  of  a  higher  Caste  towards  an  inferior  one 
is  entirely  forbidden,  and  a  Brahmin  would  never  think  of 
assisting  a  member  of  another  Caste,  even  when  in  danger. 
The  other  Castes  deem  it  a  great  honor  when  a  Brahmin  cakes 
their  daughters  as  his  wives — a  thing  however,  which  is  per- 
mitted him,  as  already  stated,  only  when  he  has  already  taken 
one  from  his  own  Caste.  Thence  arises  the  freedom  the  Brah- 
mins enjoy  in  getting  wives.  At  the  great  religious  festivals 
they  go  among  the  people  and  choose  those  that  please  them 
best ;  but  they  also  repudiate  them  at  pleasure. 

If  a  Brahmin  or  a  member  of  any  other  Caste  transgresses 
the  above  cited  laws  and  precepts,  he  is  himself  excluded  from 
his  caste,  and  in  order  to  be  received  back  again,  he  must  have 
a  hook  bored  through  the  hips,  and  be  swung  repeatedly  back- 
wards and  forwards  in  the  air.  There  are  also  other  forms  of 
restoration.  A  Rajah  who  thought  himself  injured  by  an  Eng- 
lish Governor  sent  two  Brahmins  to  England  to  detail  his 
grievances.  But  the  Hindoos  are  forbidden  to  cross  the  sea, 
and  these  envoys  on  their  return  were  declared  excommuni- 
cated from  their  caste,  and  in  order  to  be  restored  to  it,  they 
had  to  be  born  again  from  a  golden  cow.  The  imposition  was 
so  far  lightened,  that  only  those  parts  of  the  cow  out  of  which 
they  had  to  creep  were  obliged  to  be  golden ;  the  rest  might 
consist  of  wood.  These  various  usages  and  religious  observan- 
ces to  which  every  Caste  is  subject  have  occasioned  great  per- 
plexity to  the  English,  especially  in  enlisting  soldiers.  At  first 
these  were  taken  from  the  Sudra-Caste,  which  is  not  bound  to 
observe  so  many  ceremonies ;  but  nothing  could  be  done  with 
them,  they  therefore  betook  themselves  to  the  Cshatriya  class. 
These  however  have  an  immense  number  of  regulations  to  ob- 
serve— they  may  not  eat  meat,  touch  a  dead  body,  drink  out 
of  a  pool  in  which  cattle  or  Europeans  have  drunk,  not  eat  what 
others  have  cooked,  etc.  Each  Hindoo  assumes  one  definite 
occupation,  and  that  only,  so  that  one  must  have  an  infinity  of 
servants ; — a  Lieutenant  has  thirty,  a  Major  sixty.  Thus  every 
Caste  has  its  own  duties  ;  the  lower  the  Caste,  the  less  it  has  to 
observe ;  and  as  each  individual  has  his  position  assigned  by 
birth,  beyond  this  fixed  arrangement  everything  is  governed 
bv  caprice  and  force.  In  the  Code  of  Manu  punishments  in- 
crease in  proportion  to  the  inferiority  of  Castes,  and  there  is  a 


*54 


PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 


distinction  in  other  respects.  If  a  man  of  a  higher  Caste  brings 
an  accusation  against  an  inferior  without  proof,  the  former  is 
not  punished ;  if  the  converse  occurs,  the  punishment  is  very 
severe.  Cases  of  theft  are  exceptional ;  in  this  case  the  higher 
the  Caste  the  heavier  is  the  penalty. 

In  respect  to  property  the  Brahmins  have  a  great  advantage, 
for  they  pay  no  taxes.  The  prince  receives  half  the  income  from 
the  lands  of  others ;  the  remainder  has  to  suffice  for  the  cost 
of  cultivation  and  the  support  of  the  laborers.  It  is  an  ex- 
tremely important  question,  whether  the  cultivated  land  in  In- 
dia is  recognized  as  belonging  to  the  cultivator,  or  belongs  to  a 
so-called  manorial  proprietor.  The  English  themselves  have 
had  great  difficulty  in  establishing  a  clear  understanding  about 
it.  For  when  they  conquered  Bengal,  it  was  of  great  importance 
to  them,  to  determine  the  mode  in  which  taxes  were  to  be  raised 
on  property,  and  they  had  to  ascertain  whether  these  should  be 
imposed  on  the  tenant  cultivators  or  the  lord  of  the  soil.  They 
imposed  the  tribute  on  the  latter ;  but  the  result  was  that  the 
proprietors  acted  in  the  most  arbitrary  manner:  drove  away 
the  tenant  cultivators,  and  declaring  that  such  or  such  an 
amount  of  land  was  not  under  cultivation,  gained  an  abatement 
of  tribute.  They  then  took  back  the  expelled  cultivators  as  day- 
laborers,  at  a  low  rate  of  wages,  and  had  the  land  cultivated 
on  their  own  behalf.  The  whole  income  belonging  to  every 
village  is,  as  already  stated,  divided  into  two  parts,  of  which  one 
belongs  to  the  Rajah,  the  other  to  the  cultivators ;  but  propor- 
tionate shares  are  also  received  by  the  Provost  of  the  place,  the 
Judge,  the  Water-Surveyor,  the  Brahmin  who  superintends 
religious  worship,  the  Astrologer  (who  is  also  a  Brahmin,  and 
announces  the  days  of  good  and  ill  omen),  the  Smith,  the  Car- 
penter, the  Potter,  the  Washerman,  the  Barber,  the  Physician, 
the  Dancing  Girls,  the  Musician,  the  Poet.  This  arrangement 
is  fixed  and  immutable,  and  subject  to  no  one's  will.  All  political 
re\olutions,  therefore,  are  matters  of  indifference  to  the  com- 
mon Hindoo,  for  his  lot  is  unchanged. 

The  view  given  of  the  relation  of  castes  leads  directly  to  the 
subject  of  Religion.  For  the  claims  of  caste  are,  as  already 
remarked,  not  merely  secular,  bu'  essentially  religious,  and  the 
Brahmins  in  their  exalted  dignity  are  the  very  gods  bodily 
present.  In  the  laws  of  Manu  it  is  said :  "  Let  the  King,  even 
in  extreme  necessity,  beware  of  exciting  the  Brahmins  against 


THE   ORIENTAL  WORLD 


i5S 


him ;  for  they  can  destroy  him  with  their  power — they  who 
create  Fire,  Sun,  Moon,  etc."  They  are  servants  neither  of 
God  nor  of  his  People,  but  are  God  himself  to  the  other  Castes 
— a  position  of  things  which  constitutes  the  perverted  character 
of  the  Hindoo  mind.  The  dreaming  Unity  of  Spirit  and  nature, 
which  involves  a  monstrous  bewilderment  in  regard  to  all  phe- 
nomena and  relations,  we  have  already  recognized  as  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  Hindoo  Spirit.  The  Hindoo  Mythology  is  there- 
fore only  a  wild  extravagance  of  Fancy,  in  which  nothing  has 
a  settled  form ;  which  takes  us  abruptly  from  the  Meanest  to 
the  Highest,  from  the  most  sublime  to  the  most  disgusting  and 
trivial.  Thus  it  is  also  difficult  to  discover  what  the  Hindoos 
understand  by  Brahm.  We  are  apt  to  take  our  conception  of 
Supreme  Divinity — the  One — the  Creator  of  Heaven  and 
Earth — and  apply  it  to  the  Indian  Brahm.  Brahma  is  dis- 
tinct from  Brahm — the  former  constituting  one  personality  in 
contrasted  relation  to  Vishnu  and  Siva.  Many  therefore  call  the 
Supreme  Existence  who  is  over  the  first  mentioned  deity,  Para- 
brahma.  The  English  have  taken  a  good  deal  of  trouble  to  find 
out  what  Brahm  properly  is.  Wilford  has  asserted  that  Hin- 
doo conceptions  recognize  two  Heavens :  the  first,  the  earthly 
paradise,  the  second,  Heaven  in  a  spiritual  sense.  To  attain 
them,  two  different  modes  of  worship  are  supposed  to  be  re- 
quired. The  one  involves  external  ceremonies,  Idol-Worship ; 
the  other  requires  that  the  Supreme  Being  should  be  honored 
in  spirit.  Sacrifices,  purifications,  pilgrimages  are  not  needed 
in  the  latter.  This  authority  states  moreover  that  there  are 
few  Hindoos  ready  to  pursue  the  second  way>  because  they  can- 
not understand  in  what  the  pleasure  of  the  second  heaven  con- 
sists, and  that  if  one  asks  a  Hindoo  whether  he  worships  Idols, 
every  one  says  "  Yes !  "  but  to  the  question,  "  Do  you  worship 
the  Supreme  Being?  "  every  one  answers  "  No."  If  the  further 
question  is  put,  "  What  is  the  meaning  of  that  practice  of  yours, 
that  silent  meditation  which  some  of  your  learned  men  speak 
of?  "  they  respond,  "  When  I  pray  to  the  honor  of  one  of  the 
Gods,  I  sit  down — the  foot  of  either  leg  on  the  thigh  of  the 
other — look  towards  Heaven,  and  calmly  elevate  my  thoughts 
with  my  hands  folded  in  silence ;  then  I  say,  I  am  Brahm  the 
Supreme  Being.  We  are  not  conscious  to  ourselves  of  being 
Brahm,  by  reason  of  Maya  (the  delusion  occasioned  by  the  out- 
ward world).  It  is  forbidden  to  pray  to  him,  and  to  offer  sac- 
Vol.  23  H — Classics 


156  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

rifices  to  him  in  his  own  nature;  for  this  would  be  to  adore 
ourselves.  In  every  case  therefore,  it  is  only  emanations  of 
Brahm  that  we  address."  Translating  these  ideas  then  into 
our  own  process  of  thought,  we  should  call  Brahm  the  pure 
unity  of  thought  in  itself — God  in  the  incomplexity  of  his  ex- 
istence. No  temples  are  consecrated  to  him,  and  he  receives 
no  worship.  Similarly,  in  the  Catholic  religion,  the  churches 
are  not  dedicated  to  God,  but  to  the  saints.  Other  Englishmen, 
who  have  devoted  themselves  to  investigating  the  conception 
of  Brahm,  have  thought  Brahm  to  be  an  unmeaning  epithet,  ap- 
plied to  all  gods :  so  that  Vishnu  says,  "  I  am  Brahm  " ;  and 
the  Sun,  the  Air,  the  Seas  are  called  Brahm.  Brahm  would  on 
this  supposition  be  substance  in  its  simplicity,  which  by  its 
very  nature  expands  itself  into  the  limitless  variety  of  phenome- 
nal diversities.  For  this  abstraction,  this  pure  unity,  is  that 
which  lies  at  the  foundation  of  All — the  root  of  all  definite  ex- 
istence. In  the  intellection  of  this  unity,  all  objectivity  falls 
away ;  for  the  purely  Abstract  is  intellection  itself  in  its  greatest 
vacuity.  To  attain  this  Death  of  Life  during  life  itself — to  con- 
stitute this  abstraction — requires  the  disappearance  of  all  moral 
activity  and  volition,  and  of  all  intellection  too,  as  in  the  Re- 
ligion of  Fo;  and  this  is  the  object  of  the  penances  already 
spoken  of. 

The  complement  to  the  abstraction  Brahm  must  then  be 
looked  for  in  the  concrete  complex  of  things;  for  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  Hindoo  religion  is  the  Manifestation  of  Diversity 
(in  "  Avatars  ").  These  then,  fall  outside  that  abstract  Unity 
of  Thought,  and  as  that  which  deviates  from  it,  constitute  the 
variety  found  in  the  world  of  sense,  the  variety  of  intellectual 
conceptions  in  an  unreflected  sensuous  form.  In  this  way  the 
concrete  complex  of  material  things  is  isolated  from  Spirit,  and 
presented  in  wild  distraction,  except  as  re-absorbed  in  the  pure 
ideality  of  Brahm.  The  other  deities  are  therefore  things  of 
sense:  Mountains,  Streams,  Beasts,  the  Sun,  the  Moon,  the 
Ganges.  The  next  stage  is  the  concentration  of  this  wild  varie- 
ty into  substantial  distinctions,  and  the  comprehension  of  them 
as  a  series  of  divine  persons.  Vishnu,  Siva,  Mahadeva  are  thus 
distinguished  from  Brahma.  In  the  embodiment  Vishnu  are 
presented  those  incarnations  in  which  God  has  appeared  as 
man,  and  which  are  always  historical  personages,  who  effected 
important  changes  and  new  epochs.    The  power  of  procreation 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  157 

is  likewise  a  substantial  embodiment;  and  in  the  excavations, 
grottos  and  pagodas  of  the  Hindoos,  the  Lingam  is  always 
found  as  symbolizing  the  male,  and  the  Lotus  the  female  vis 
procreandi. 

With  this  Duality — abstract  unity  on  the  one  side  and  the  ab- 
stract isolation  of  the  world  of  sense  on  the  other  side — exactly 
corresponds  the  double  form  of  Worship,  in  the  relation  of  the 
human  subjectivity  to  God.  The  one  side  of  this  duality  of  wor- 
ship consists  in  the  abstraction  of  pure  self-elevation — the  ab- 
rogation of  real  self-consiousness ;  a  negativity  which  is  conse- 
quently manifested,  on  the  one  hand,  in  the  attainment  of  torpid 
unconsciousness — on  the  other  hand  in  suicide  and  the  extinc- 
tion of  all  that  is  worth  calling  life,  by  self-inflicted  tortures. 
The  other  side  of  worship  consists  in  a  wild  tumult  of  excess ; 
when  all  sense  of  individuality  has  vanished  from  consciousness 
by  immersion  in  the  merely  natural ;  with  which  individuality 
thus  makes  itself  identical — destroying  its  consciousness  of  dis- 
tinction from  Nature.  In  all  the  pagodas,  therefore,  prostitutes 
and  dancing  girls  are  kept,  whom  the  Brahmins  instruct  most 
carefully  in  dancing,  in  beautiful  postures  and  attractive  gest- 
ures, and  who  have  to  comply  with  the  wishes  of  all  comers  at 
a  fixed  price.  Theological  doctrine — relation  of  religion  to 
morality — is  here  altogether  out  of  the  question.  On  the  one 
hand  Love — Heaven — in  short  everything  spiritual — is  con- 
ceived by  the  fancy  of  the  Hindoo ;  but  on  the  other  hand  his 
conceptions  have  an  actual  sensuous  embodiment,  and  he  im- 
merses himself  by  a  voluptuous  intoxication  in  the  merely 
natural.  Objects  of  religious  worship  are  thus  either  disgusting 
forms  produced  by  art,  or  those  presented  by  Nature.  Every 
bird,  every  monkey,  is  a  present  god,  an  absolutely  universal 
existence.  The  Hindoo  is  incapable  of  holding  fast  an  object 
in  his  mind  by  means  of  rational  predicates  assigned  to  it,  for 
this  requires  reflection.  While  a  universal  essence  is  wrongly 
transmuted  into  sensuous  objectivity,  the  latter  is  also  driven 
from  its  definite  character  into  universality — a  process  whereby 
it  loses  its  footing  and  is  expanded  to  indefiniteness. 

If  we  proceed  to  ask  how  far  their  religion  exhibits  the  Moral- 
ity of  the  Hindoos,  the  answer  must  be  that  the  former  is  as  dis- 
tinct from  the  latter,  as  Brahm  from  the  concrete  existence 
of  which  he  is  the  essence.  To  us,  religion  is  the  knowledge  of 
that  Being  who  is  emphatically  our  Being,  and  therefore  the 


158  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

substance  of  our  knowledge  and  volition ;  the  proper  office  of 
which  latter  is  to  be  the  mirror  of  this  fundamental  substance. 
But  that  requires  this  (Highest)  Being  to  be  in  se  a  personality, 
pursuing  divine  aims,  such  as  can  become  the  purport  of  human 
action.  Such  an  idea  of  a  relation  of  the  Being  of  God  as  con- 
stituting the  universal  basis  or  substance  of  human  action — 
such  a  morality  cannot  be  found  among  the  Hindoos ;  for  they 
have  not  the  Spiritual  as  the  import  of  their  consciousness.  On 
the  one  hand  their  virtue  consists  in  the  abstraction  from  all 
activity — the  condition  they  call  "  Brahm."  On  the  other  hand 
every  action  with  them  is  a  prescribed  external  usage ;  not 
free  activity,  the  result  of  inward  personality.  Thus  the  moral 
condition  of  the  Hindoos  (as  already  observed)  shows  itself 
most  abandoned.  In  this  all  Englishmen  agfee.  Our  judgment 
of  the  morality  of  the  Hindoos  is  apt  to  be  warped  by  represen- 
tations of  their  mildness,  tenderness,  beautiful  and  sentimental 
fancy.  But  we  must  reflect  that  in  nations  utterly  corrupt,  there 
are  sides  of  character  which  may  be  called  tender  and  noble. 
We  have  Chinese  poems  in  which  the  tenderest  relations  of 
love  are  depicted ;  in  which  delineations  of  deep  emotion,  hu- 
mility, modesty,  propriety  are  to  be  found ;  and  which  may  be 
compared  with  the  best  that  European  literature  contains.  The 
same  characteristics  meet  us  in  many  Hindoo  poems ;  but  recti- 
tude, morality,  freedom  of  soul,  consciousness  of  individual 
right  are  quite  another  thing.  The  annihilating  of  spiritual  and 
physical  existence  has  nothing  concrete  in  it ;  and  absorption 
in  the  abstractly  Universal  has  no  connection  with  the  real. 
Deceit  and  cunning  are  the  fundamental  characteristics  of  the 
Hindoo.  Cheating,  stealing,  robbing,  murdering  are  with  him 
habitual.  Humbly  crouching  and  abject  before  a  victor  and 
lord,  he  is  recklessly  barbarous  to  the  vanquished  and  subject. 
Characteristic  of  the  Hindoo's  humanity  is  the  fact  that  he  kills 
no  brute  animal,  founds  and  supports  rich  hospitals  for  brutes, 
especially  for  old  cows  and  monkeys — but  that  through  the 
whole  land,  no  single  institution  can  be  found  for  human  be- 
ings who  are  diseased  or  infirm  from  age.  The  Hindoos  will 
not  tread  upon  ants,  but  they  are  perfectly  indifferent  when  poor 
wanderers  pine  away  with  hunger.  The  Brahmins  are  espe- 
cially immoral.  According  to  English  reports,  they  do  nothing 
but  eat  and  sleep.  In  what  is  not  forbidden  them  by  the  rules 
of  their  order  they  follow  natural  impulses  entirely.    When  they 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD 


159 


take  any  part  in  public  life  they  show  themselves  avaricious,  de- 
ceitful, voluptuous.  With  those  whom  they  have  reason  to  fear, 
they  are  humble  enough ;  for  which  they  avenge  themselves  on 
their  dependents.  "  I  do  not  know  an  honest  man  among 
them,"  says  an  English  authority.  Children  have  no  respect 
for  their  parents :  sons  maltreat  their  mothers. 

It  would  lead  us  too  far  to  give  a  detailed  notice  of  Hindoo 
Art  and  Science.  But  we  may  make  the  general  remark,  that  a 
more  accurate  acquaintance  with  its  real  value  has  not  a  little 
diminished  the  widely  bruited  fame  of  Indian  Wisdom.  Ac- 
cording to  the  Hindoo  principle  of  pure  self-renouncing  Ideal- 
ity, and  that  (phenomenal)  variety,  which  goes  to  the  opposite 
extreme  of  sensuousness,  it  is  evident  that  nothing  but  abstract 
thought  and  imagination  can  be  developed.  Thus,  e.g.,  their 
grammar  has  advanced  to  a  high  degree  of  consistent  regular- 
ity ;  but  when  substantial  matter  in  sciences  and  works  of  art 
is  in  question,  it  is  useless  to  look  for  it  here.  When  the  Eng- 
lish had  become  masters  of  the  country,  the  work  of  restoring 
to  light  the  records  of  Indian  culture  was  commenced,  and 
William  Jones  first  disinterred  the  poems  of  the  Golden  Age. 
The  English  exhibited  plays  at  Calcutta :  this  led  to  a  represen- 
tation of  dramas  on  the  part  of  the  Brahmins,  e.g.  the  Sacontala 
of  Calidasa,  etc.  In  the  enthusiasm  pf  discovery  the  Hindoo 
culture  was  very  highly  rated ;  and  as,  when  new  beauties  are 
discovered,  the  old  ones  are  commonly  looked  down  upon  with 
contempt,  Hindoo  poetry  and  philosophy  were  extolled  as  far 
superior  to  the  Greek.  For  our  purpose  the  most  important 
documents  are  the  ancient  and  canonical  books  of  the  Hin- 
doos, especially  the  Vedas.  They  comprise  many  divisions,  of 
which  the  fourth  is  of  more  recent  origin.  They  consist  partly 
of  religious  prayers,  partly  of  precepts  to  be  observed.  Some 
manuscripts  of  these  Vedas  have  come  to  Europe,  though  in 
a  complete  form  they  are  exceedingly  rare.  The  writing  is  on 
palm  leaves,  scratched  in  with  a  needle.  The  Vedas  are  very 
difficult  to  understand,  since  they  date  from  the  most  remote 
antiquity,  and  the  language  is  a  much  older  Sanscrit.  Cole- 
brooke  has  indeed  translated  a  part,  but  this  itself  is  perhaps 
taken  from  a  commentary,  of  which  there  are  very  many.*    Two 

*  Only  recently  has  Professor  Rosen,  Specimen,  ed.  Fr.  Rosen.    Lond.    1830." 

residing    in    London,    gone    thoroughly  (More  recently,  since  Rosen's  death,  the 

into  the  matter  and  given  a  specimen  of  whole  Rig- Veda,  London,  1839,  has  been 

the  text  with  a  translation,      Rig-Vedae  published  from  MSS.  left  by  him.) 


l6o  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

great  epic  poems,  Ramayana  and  Mahabharata,  have  also 
reached  Europe.  Three  quarto  volumes  of  the  former  have 
been  printed,  the  second  volume  is  extremely  rare.f  Besides 
these  works,  the  Puranas  must  be  particularly  noticed.  The 
Puranas  contain  the  history  of  a  god  or  of  a  temple.  They  are 
entirely  fanciful.  Another  Hindoo  classical  book  is  the  Code 
of  Manu.  This  Hindoo  lawgiver  has  been  compared  with  the 
Cretan  Minos — a  name  which  also  occurs  among  the  Egyp- 
tians ;  and  certainly  this  extensive  occurrence  of  the  same  name 
is  noteworthy  and  cannot  be  ascribed  to  chance.  Manu's  code 
of  morals,  (published  at  Calcutta  with  an  English  translation 
by  Sir  W.  Jones)  forms  the  basis  of  Hindoo  legislation.  It  be- 
gins with  a  Theogony,  which  is  not  only  entirely  different  from 
the  mythological  conceptions  of  other  peoples  (as  might  be  ex- 
pected), but  also  deviates  essentially  from  the  Hindoo  traditions 
themselves.  For  in  these  also  there  are  only  some  leading  feat- 
ures that  pervade  the  whole.  In  other  respects  everything  is 
abandoned  to  chance,  caprice  and  fancy ;  the  result  of  which  is 
that  the  most  multiform  traditions,  shapes  and  names,  appear 
in  never  ending  procession.  The  time  when  Manu's  code  was 
composed,  is  also  entirely  unknown  and  undetermined.  The 
traditions  reach  beyond  twenty-three  centuries  before  the  birth 
of  Christ :  a  dynasty  of  the  Children  of  the  Sun  is  mentioned,  on 
which  followed  one  of  the  Children  of  the  Moon.  Thus  much, 
however,  is  certain,  that  the  code  in  question  is  of  high  an- 
tiquity ;  and  an  acquaintance  with  it  is  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance to  the  English,  as  their  knowledge  of  Hindoo  Law  is  de- 
rived from  it. 

After  pointing  out  the  Hindoo  principle  in  the  distinctions 
of  caste,  in  religion  and  literature,  we  must  also  mention  the 
mode  and  form  of  their  political  existence — the  polity  of  the 
Hindoo  State. — A  State  is  a  realization  of  Spirit,  such  that  in 
it  the  self-conscious  being  of  Spirit — the  freedom  of  the  Will — 
is  realized  as  Law.  Such  an  institution  then,  necessarily  pre- 
supposes the  consciousness  of  free  will.  In  the  Chinese  State 
the  moral  will  of  the  Emperor  is  the  law :  but  so  that  subjective, 
inward  freedom  is  thereby  repressed,  and  the  Law  of  Freedom 
governs  individuals  only  as  from  without.     In  India  the  pri- 

t  "  A.  W.  v.  Schlegel  has  published  have  been  introduced  to  public  notice  by 
the  first  and  second  Volume;  the  most  F.  Bopp,  and  a  complete  Edition  has  ap- 
important  Episodes  of  the  Mahabharata       peared  at  Calcutta.  —German  Editor. 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  161 

mary  aspect  of  subjectivity — viz.,  that  of  the  imagination — pre- 
sents a  union  of  the  Natural  and  Spiritual,  in  which  Nature 
on  the  one  hand,  does  not  present  itself  as  a  world  embodying 
Reason,  nor  the  Spiritual  on  the  other  hand,  as  consciousness 
in  contrast  with  Nature.  Here  the  antithesis  in  the  (above- 
stated)  principle  is  wanting.  Freedom  both  as  abstract  will  and 
as  subjective  freedom  is  absent.  The  proper  basis  of  the  State, 
the  principle  of  freedom  is  altogether  absent:  there  cannot 
therefore  be  any  State  in  the  true  sense  of  the  term.  This  is  the 
first  point  to  be  observed :  if  China  may  be  regarded  as  nothing 
else  but  a  State,  Hindoo  political  existence  presents  us  with  a 
people,  but  no  State.  Secondly,  while  we  found  a  moral  despot- 
ism in  China,  whatever  may  be  called  a  relic  of  political  life 
in  India,  is  a  despotism  without  a  principle,  without  any  rule  of 
morality  and  religion:  for  morality  and  religion  (as  far  as  the 
latter  has  a  reference  to  human  action)  have  as  their  indis- 
pensable condition  and  basis  the  freedom  of  the  Will.  In  India, 
therefore,  the  most  arbitrary,  wicked,  degrading  despotism  has 
its  full  swing.  China,  Persia,  Turkey — in  fact  Asia  generally, 
is  the  scene  of  despotism,  and,  in  a  bad  sense,  of  tyranny ;  but 
it  is  regarded  as  contrary  to  the  due  order  of  things,  and  is 
disapproved  by  religion  and  the  moral  consciousness  of  indi- 
viduals. In  those  countries,  tyranny  rouses  men  to  resentment ; 
they  detest  it  and  groan  under  it  as  a  burden.  To  them  it  is 
an  accident  and  an  irregularity,  not  a  necessity :  it  ought  not  to 
exist.  But  in  India  it  is  normal :  for  here  there  is  no  sense  of 
personal  independence  with  which  a  state  of  despotism  could 
be  compared,  and  which  would  raise  revolt  in  the  soul ;  nothing 
approaching  even  a  resentful  protest  against  it,  is  left,  except 
the  corporeal  smart,  and  the  pain  of  being  deprived  of  absolute 
necessaries  and  of  pleasure. 

In  the  case  of  such  a  people,  therefore,  that  which  we  call 
in  its  double  sense,  History,  is  not  to  be  looked  for ;  and  here 
the  distinction  between  China  and  India  is  most  clearly  and 
strongly  manifest.  The  Chinese  possess  a  most  minute  history 
of  their  country,  and  it  has  been  already  remarked  what  ar- 
rangements are  made  in  China  for  having  everything  accu- 
rately noted  down  in  their  annals.  The  contrary  is  the  case  in 
India.  Though  the  recent  discoveries  of  the  treasures  of 
Indian  Literature  have  shown  us  what  a  reputation  the  Hin- 
doos have  acquired  in  Geometry,  Astronomy,  and  Algebra — 


162  PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 

that  they  have  made  great  advances  in  Philosophy,  and  that 
among  them,  Grammar  has  been  so  far  cultivated  that  no  lan- 
guage can  be  regarded  as  more  fully  developed  than  the 
Sanscrit — we  find  the  department  of  History  altogether  neg- 
lected, or  rather  non-existent.  For  History  requires  Under- 
standing— the  power  of  looking  at  an  object  in  an  independent 
objective  light,  and  comprehending  it  in  its  rational  connec- 
tion with  other  objects.  Those  peoples  therefore  are  alone 
capable  of  History,  and  of  prose  generally,  who  have  arrived 
at  that  period  of  development  (and  can  make  that  their  start- 
ing point)  at  which  individuals  comprehend  their  own  exist- 
ence as  independent,  i.e.  possess  self-consciousness. 

The  Chinese  are  to  be  rated  at  what  they  have  made  of  them- 
selves, looking  at  them  in  the  entirety  of  their  State.  While 
they  have  thus  attained  an  existence  independent  of  Nature, 
they  can  also  regard  objects  as  distinct  from  themselves — as 
they  are  actually  presented — in  a  definite  form  and  in  their  real 
connection.  The  Hindoos  on  the  contrary  are  by  birth  given 
over  to  an  unyielding  destiny,  while  at  the  same  time  their 
Spirit  is  exalted  to  Ideality;  so  that  their  minds  exhibit  the 
contradictory  processes  of  a  dissolution  of  fixed  rational  and 
definite  conceptions  in  their  Ideality,  and  on  the  other  side,  a 
degradation  of  this  ideality  to  a  multiformity  of  sensuous  ob- 
jects. This  makes  them  incapable  of  writing  History.  All 
that  happens  is  dissipated  in  their  minds  into  confused  dreams. 
What  we  call  historical  truth  and  veracity — intelligent,  thought- 
ful comprehension  of  events,  and  fidelity  in  representing  them 
— nothing  of  this  sort  can  be  looked  for  among  the  Hindoos. 
We  may  explain  this  deficiency  partly  from  that  excitement  and 
debility  of  the  nerves,  which  prevent  them  from  retaining  an 
object  in  their  minds,  and  firmly  comprehending  it,  for  in  their 
mode  of  apprehension,  a  sensitive  and  imaginative  temperament 
changes  it  into  a  feverish  dream ; — partly  from  the  fact,  that 
veracity  is  the  direct  contrary  to  their  nature.  They  even  lie 
knowingly  and  designedly  where  misapprehension  is  out  of  the 
question.  As  the  Hindoo  Spirit  is  a  state  of  dreaming  and 
mental  transiency — a  self-oblivious  dissolution — objects  also 
dissolve  for  it  into  unreal  images  and  indefinitude.  This  feature 
is  absolutely  characteristic ;  and  this  alone  would  furnish  us 
with  a  clear  idea  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Hindoos,  from  which  all 
that  has  been  said  might  be  deduced. 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  163 

But  History  is  always  of  great  importance  for  a  people; 
since  by  means  of  that  it  becomes  conscious  of  the  path  of 
development  taken  by  its  own  Spirit,  which  expresses  itself  in 
Laws,  Manners,  Customs,  and  Deeds.  Laws,  comprising  mor- 
als and  judicial  institutions,  are  by  nature  the  permanent  ele- 
ment in  a  people's  existence.  But  History  presents  a  people 
with  their  own  image  in  a  condition  which  thereby  becomes  ob- 
jective to  them.  Without  History  their  existence  in  time  is 
blindly  self-involved — the  recurring  play  of  arbitrary  volition  in 
manifold  forms.  History  fixes  and  imparts  consistency  to  this 
fortuitous  current — gives  it  the  form  of  Universality,  and  by  so 
doing  posits  a  directive  and  restrictive  rule  for  it.  It  is  an 
essential  instrument  in  developing  and  determining  the  Con- 
stitution— that  is,  a  rational  political  condition ;  for  it  is  the 
empirical  method  of  producing  the  Universal,  inasmuch  as  it 
sets  up  a  permanent  object  for  the  conceptive  powers. — It  is  be- 
cause the  Hindoos  have  no  History  in  the  form  of  annals  (his- 
toria)  that  they  have  no  History  in  the  form  of  transactions  (res 
gestae)  ;  that  is,  no  growth  expanding  into  a  veritable  political 
condition. 

Periods  of  time  are  mentioned  in  the  Hindoo  Writings,  and 
large  numbers  which  have  often  an  astronomical  meaning,  but 
which  have  still  oftener  a  quite  arbitrary  origin.  Thus  it  is 
related  of  certain  Kings  that  they  had  reigned  70,000  years, 
or  more.  Brahma,  the  first  figure  in  the  Cosmogony,  and  self- 
produced,  is  said  to  have  lived  20,000  years,  etc.  Innumerable 
names  of  Kings  are  cited — among  them  the  incarnations  of 
Vishnu.  It  would  be  ridiculous  to  regard  passages  of  this  kind 
as  anything  historical.  In  their  poems  Kings  are  often  talked  of: 
these  may  have  been  historical  personages,  but  they  completely 
vanish  in  fable ;  e.g.  they  retire  from  the  world,  and  then  ap- 
pear again,  after  they  have  passed  ten  thousand  years  in  soli- 
tude. The  numbers  in  question,  therefore,  have  not  the  value 
and  rational  meaning  which  we  attach  to  them. 

Consequently  the  oldest  and  most  reliable  sources  of  Indian 
History  are  the  notices  of  Greek  Authors,  after  Alexander 
the  Great  had  opened  the  way  to  India.  From  them  we  learn 
that  their  institutions  were  the  same  at  that  early  period  as  they 
are  now:  Santaracottus  (Chandragupta)  is  marked  out  as  a 
distinguished  ruler  in  the  northern  part  of  India,  to  which  the 
Bactrian  kingdom  extended.    The  Mahometan  historians  sup- 


164  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

ply  another  source  of  information ;  for  the  Mahometans  began 
their  invasions  as  early  as  the  tenth  century.  A  Turkish  slave 
was  the  ancestor  of  the  Ghiznian  race.  His  son  Mahmoud 
made  an  inroad  into  Hindostan  and  conquered  almost  the  whole 
country.  He  fixed  his  royal  residence  west  of  Cabul,  and  at 
his  court  lived  the  poet  Ferdusi.  The  Ghiznian  dynasty  was 
soon  entirely  exterminated  by  the  sweeping  attacks  of  the 
Afghans  and  Moguls.  In  later  times  nearly  the  whole  of  India 
has  been  subjected  to  the  Europeans.  What  therefore  is  known 
of  Indian  history,  has  for  the  most  part  been  communicated 
through  foreign  channels:  the  native  literature  gives  only  in- 
distinct data.  Europeans  assure  us  of  the  impossibility  of  wad- 
ing through  the  morasses  of  Indian  statements.  More  definite 
information  may  be  obtained  from  inscriptions  and  documents, 
especially  from  the  deeds  of  gifts  of  land  to  pagodas  and  divin- 
ities; but  this  kind  of  evidence  supplies  names  only.  Another 
source  of  information  is  the  astronomical  literature,  which  is 
of  high  antiquity  Colebrooke  thoroughly  studied  these  writ- 
ings; though  it  is  very  difficult  to  procure  manuscripts,  since 
the  Brahmins  keep  them  very  close ;  they  are  moreover  disfig- 
ured by  the  grossest  interpolations.  It  is  found  that  the  state- 
ments with  regard  to  constellations  are  often  contradictory,  and 
that  the  Brahmins  interpolate  these  ancient  works  with  events 
belonging  to  their  own  time.  The  Hindoos  do  indeed  possess 
lists  and  enumerations  of  their  Kings,  but  these  also  are  of  the 
most  capricious  character;  for  we  often  find  twenty  Kings 
more  in  one  list  than  in  another;  and  should  these  lists  even 
be  correct,  they  could  not  constitute  a  history.  The  Brahmins 
have  no  conscience  in  respect  to  truth.  Captain  Wilford  had 
procured  manuscripts  from  all  quarters  with  great  trouble  and 
expense ;  he  assembled  a  considerable  number  of  Brahmins, 
and  commissioned  them  to  make  extracts  from  these  works,  and 
to  institute  inquiries  respecting  certain  remarkable  events — 
about  Adam  and  Eve,  the  Deluge,  etc.  The  Brahmins,  to  please 
their  employer,  produced  statements  of  the  kind  required ;  but 
there  was  nothing  of  the  sort  in  the  manuscripts.  Wilford 
wrote  many  treatises  on  the  subject,  till  at  last  he  detected  the 
deception,  and  saw  that  he  had  labored  in  vain.  The  Hindoos 
have,  it  is  true,  a  fixed  Era :  they  reckon  from  Vicramaditya,  at 
whose  splendid  court  lived  Calidasa,  the  author  of  the  Sacon- 
tala.     The  most  illustrious  poets  flourished  about  the  same 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  ^5 

time.  "  There  were  nine  pearls  at  the  court  of  Vicramaditya," 
say  the  Brahmins :  but  we  cannot  discover  the  date  of  this 
brilliant  epoch.  From  various  statements,  the  year  149 1  B.C. 
has  been  contended  for;  others  adopt  the  year  50  B.C.,  and  this 
is  the  commonly  received  opinion.  Bentley's  researches  at 
length  placed  Vicramaditya  in  the  twelfth  century  B.C.  But 
still  more  recently  it  has  been  discovered  that  there  were  five, 
or  even  eight  or  nine  kings  of  that  name  in  India ;  so  that  on 
this  point  also  we  are  thrown  back  into  utter  uncertainty. 

When  the  Europeans  became  acquainted  with  India,  they 
found  a  multitude  of  petty  Kingdoms,  at  whose  head  were 
Mahometan  and  Indian  princes.  There  was  an  order  of  things 
very  nearly  approaching  feudal  organization;  and  the  King- 
doms in  question  were  divided  into  districts,  having  as  gov- 
ernors Mahometans,  or  people  of  the  Warrior  Caste  of  Hin- 
doos. The  business  of  these  governors  consisted  in  collecting 
taxes  and  carrying  on  wars ;  and  they  thus  formed  a  kind  of 
aristocracy,  the  Prince's  Council  of  State.  But  only  as  far  as 
their  princes  are  feared  and  excite  fear,  have  they  any  power ; 
and  no  obedience  is  rendered  to  them  but  by  force.  As  long 
as  the  prince  does  not  want  money,  he  has  troops ;  and  neigh- 
boring princes,  if  they  are  inferior  to  him  in  force,  are  often 
obliged  to  pay  taxes,  but  which  are  yielded  only  on  compulsion. 
The  whole  state  of  things,  therefore,  is  not  that  of  repose,  but 
of  continual  struggle;  while  moreover  nothing  is  developed 
or  furthered.  It  is  the  struggle  of  an  energetic  will  on  the  part 
of  this  or  that  prince  against  a  feebler  one;  the  history  of 
reigning  dynasties,  but  not  of  peoples ;  a  series  of  perpetually 
varying  intrigues  and  revolts — not  indeed  of  subjects  against 
their  rulers,  but  of  a  prince's  son,  for  instance,  against  his 
father;  of  brothers,  uncles  and  nephews  in  contest  with  each 
other ;  and  of  functionaries  against  their  master.  It  might  be 
believed  that,  though  the  Europeans  found  such  a  state  of 
things,  this  was  the  result  of  the  dissolution  of  earlier  superior 
organizations.  It  might,  for  instance,  be  supposed  that  the 
period  of  the  Mogul  supremacy  was  of  one  of  prosperity  and 
splendor,  and  of  a  political  condition  in  which  India  was  not 
distracted  religiously  and  politically  by  foreign  conquerors. 
But  the  historical  traces  and  lineaments  that  accidentally  pre- 
sent themselves  in  poetical  descriptions  and  legends,  bearing 
upon  the  period  in  question,  always  point  to  the  same  divided 


1 66  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

condition — the  result  of  war  and  of  the  instability  of  political 
relations;  while  contrary  representations  may  be  easily  recog- 
nized as  a  dream,  a  mere  fancy.  This  state  of  things  is  the 
natural  result  of  that  conception  of  Hindoo  life  which  has  been 
exhibited,  and  the  conditions  which  it  necessitates.  The  wars 
of  the  sects  of  the  Brahmins  and  Buddhists,  of  the  devotees  of 
Vishnu  and  of  Siva,  also  contributed  their  quota  to  this  con- 
fusion.— There  is  indeed,  a  common  character  pervading  the 
whole  of  India ;  but  its  several  states  present  at  the  same  time 
the  greatest  variety ;  so  that  in  one  Indian  State  we  meet  with 
the  greatest  effeminacy — in  another,  on  the  contrary,  we  find 
prodigious  vigor  and  savage  barbarity. 

If  then,  in  conclusion,  we  once  more  take  a  general  view  of 
the  comparative  condition  of  India  and  China,  we  shall  see 
that  China  was  characterized  by  a  thoroughly  unimaginative 
Understanding;  a  prosaic  life  amid  firm  and  definite  reality: 
while  in  the  Indian  world  there  is,  so  to  speak,  no  object  that 
can  be  regarded  as  real,  and  firmly  defined — none  that  was  not 
at  its  first  apprehension  perverted  by  the  imagination  to  the  very 
opposite  of  what  it  presents  to  an  intelligent  consciousness.  In 
China  it  is  the  Moral  which  constitutes  the  substance  of  the 
laws,  and  which  is  embodied  in  external  strictly  determinate 
relations;  while  over  all  hovers  the  patriarchal  providence  of 
the  Emperor,  who  like  a  Father,  cares  impartially  for  the  in- 
terest of  his  subjects.  Among  the  Hindoos,  on  the  contrary — 
instead  of  this  Unity — Diversity  is  the  fundamental  character- 
istic. Religion,  War,  Handicraft,  Trade,  yes,  even  the  most 
trivial  occupations  are  parcelled  out  with  rigid  separation — 
constituting  as  they  do  the  import  of  the  one  will  which  they 
involve,  and  whose  various  requirements  they  exhaust.  With 
this  is  bound  up  a  monstrous,  irrational  imagination,  which  at- 
taches the  moral  value  and  character  of  men  to  an  infinity  of 
outward  actions  as  empty  in  point  of  intellect  as  of  feeling ;  sets 
aside  all  respect  for  the  welfare  of  man,  and  even  makes  a  duty 
of  the  cruellest  and  severest  contravention  of  it.  Those  distinc- 
tions being  rigidly  maintained,  nothing  remains  for  the  one 
universal  will  of  the  State  but  pure  caprice,  against  whose 
omnipotence  only  the  fixed  caste-distinctions  avail  for  protec- 
tion. The  Chinese  in  their  prosaic  rationality,  reverence  as  the 
Highest,  only  the  abslract  supreme  lord;  and  they  exhibit  a 
contemptibly  superstitious  respect  for  the  fixed  and  definite- 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  167 

Among  the  Hindoos  there  is  no  such  superstition  so  far  as  it 
presents  an  antithesis  to  Understanding ;  rather  their  whole  life 
and  ideas  are  one  unbroken  superstition,  because  among  them 
all  is  revery  and  consequent  enslavement.  Annihilation — the 
abandonment  of  all  reason,  morality  and  subjectivity — can  only 
come  to  a  positive  feeling  and  consciousness  of  itself,  by  extrav- 
agating  in  a  boundlessly  wild  imagination;  in  which,  like  a 
desolate  spirit,  it  finds  no  rest,  no  settled  composure,  though  it 
can  content  itself  in  no  other  way ;  as  a  man  who  is  quite  re- 
duced in  body  and  spirit  finds  his  existence  altogether  stupid 
and  intolerable,  and  is  driven  to  the  creation  of  a  dream-world 
and  a  delirious  bliss  in  Opium. 

Section  II. — (Continued).— India— Buddhism  * 

It  is  time  to  quit  the  Dream- State  characterizing  the  Hindoo 
Spirit  revelling  in  the  most  extravagant  maze  through  all  nat- 
ural and  spiritual  forms ;  comprising  at  the  same  time  the  coars- 
est sensuality  and  anticipations  of  the  profoundest  thought, 
and  on  that  very  account — as  far  as  free  and  rational  reality  is 
concerned — sunk  in  the  most  self-abandoned,  helpless  slavery; 
— a  slavery,  in  which  the  abstract  forms  into  which  concrete 
human  life  is  divided,  have  become  stereotyped,  and  human 
rights  and  culture  have  been  made  absolutely  dependent  upon 
these  distinctions.  In  contrast  with  this  inebriate  Dream-life, 
which  in  the  sphere  of  reality  is  bound  fast  in  chains,  we  have 
the  unconstrained  Dream-life ;  which  on  the  one  hand  is  ruder 
than  the  former — as  not  having  advanced  so  far  as  to  make 
this  distinction  of  modes  of  life — but  for  the  same  reason,  has 
not  sunk  into  the  slavery  which  this  entails.  It  keeps  itself  more 
free,  more  independently  firm  in  itself:  its  world  of  ideas  is 
consequently  compressed  into  simpler  conceptions. 

The  Spirit  of  the  Phase  just  indicated,  is  involved  in  the 
same  fundamental  principle  as  that  assigned  to  Hindoo  con- 
ceptions: but  it  is  more  concentrated  in  itself;  its  religion  is 
^simpler,  and  the  accompanying  political  condition  more  calm 
and  settled.  This  phase  comprehends  peoples  and  countries 
of  the  most  varied  complexion.     We  regard  it  as  embracing 

*  As  in  Hegel's  original  plan  and  in  agrees  better  with  recent  investigations, 

the  first  lecture  the  transition  from  In-  its  detachment  from  the  place  which  it 

dian  Brahminism  to  Buddhism  occupies  previously   occupied   and   mention   here 

the  place  assigned  it  here,   and  as  this  will  appear  sufficiently  justified. — Ed. 
position   of   the   chapter   on   Buddhism 


168  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

Ceylon,  Farther  India  with  the  Burman  Empire,  Siam,  Anam— « 
north  of  that  Thibet,  and  further  on  the  Chinese  Upland  with 
its  various  populations  of  Mongols  and  Tartars.  We  shall  not 
examine  the  special  individualities  of  these  peoples,  but  merely 
characterize  their  Religion,  which  constitutes  the  most  interest- 
ing side  of  their  existence  The  Religion  of  these  peoples  is 
Buddhism,  which  is  the  most  widely  extended  religion  on  our 
globe.  In  China  Buddha  is  reverenced  as  Fo;  in  Ceylon  as 
Gautama;  in  Thibet  and  among  the  Mongols  this  religion  has 
assumed  the  phase  of  Lamaism.  In  China — where  the  religion 
of  Fo  early  received  a  great  extension,  and  introduced  a  mo- 
nastic life — it  occupies  the  position  of  an  integrant  element  of 
the  Chinese  principle.  As  the  Substantial  form  of  Spirit  which 
characterizes  China,  develops  itself  only  to  a  unity  of  secular 
national  life,  which  degrades  individuals  to  a  position  of  con- 
stant dependence,  religion  also  remains  in  a  state  of  dependence. 
The  element  of  freedom  is  wanting  to  it;  for  its  object  is  the 
principle  of  Nature  in  general — Heaven — Universal  Matter. 
But  the  (compensating)  truth  of  this  alienated  form  of  Spirit 
(Nature  occupying  the  place  of  the  Absolute  Spirit)  is  ideal 
Unity;  the  elevation  above  the  limitation  of  Nature  and  of 
existence  at  large ; — the  return  of  consciousness  into  the  soul. 
This  element,  which  is  contained  in  Buddhism,  has  made  its 
way  in  China,  to  that  extent  to  which  the  Chinese  have  become 
aware  of  the  unspirituality  of  their  condition,  and  the  limitation 
that  hampers  their  consciousness. — In  this  religion — which  may 
be  generally  described  as  the  religion  of  self-involvement  (un- 
developed Unity)* — the  elevation  of  that  unspiritual  condition 
to  subjectivity,  takes  place  in  two  ways;  one  of  which  is  of 
a  negative,  the  other  of  an  affirmative  kind. 

The  negative  form  of  this  elevation  is  the  concentration  of 
Spirit  to  the  Infinite,  and  must  first  present  itself  under  theo- 
logical conditions.  It  is  contained  in  the  fundamental  dogma, 
that  Nothingness  is  the  principle  of  all  things — that  all  pro- 
ceeded from  and  returns  to  Nothingness.  The  various  forms 
found  in  the  World  are  only  modifications  of  procession 
[thence].  If  an  analysis  of  these  various  forms  were  attempted, 
they  would  lose  their  quality ;  for  in  themselves  all  things  are 
one  and  the  same  inseparable  essence,  and  this  essence  is  Noth- 

*  Compare  Hegel's  "  Vorlesungen  fiber  die  Philosophic  der  Religion,"  2d  Edi- 
tion, Pt.  I.  p.  384. 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  169 

ingness.  The  connection  of  this  with  the  Metempsychosis  can 
be  thus  explained :  All  (that  we  see)  is  but  a  change  of  Form. 
The  inherent  infinity  of  Spirit — infinite  concrete  self-depend- 
ence— is  entirely  separate  from  this  Universe  of  phenomena. 
Abstract  Nothingness  is  properly  that  which  lies  beyond  Finite 
Existence — what  we  may  call  the  Supreme  Being.  This  real 
principle  of  the  Universe  is,  it  is  said,  in  eternal  repose,  and  in 
itself  unchangeable.  Its  essence  consists  in  the  absence  of 
activity  and  volition.  For  Nothingness  is  abstract  Unity  with 
itself.  To  obtain  happiness,  therefore,  man  must  seek  to  assim- 
ilate himself  to  this  principle  by  continual  victories  over  him- 
self ;  and  for  the  sake  of  this,  do  nothing,  wish  nothing,  desire 
nothing.  In  this  condition  of  happiness,  therefore,  Vice  or 
Virtue  is  out  of  the  question ;  for  the  true  blessedness  is  Union 
with  Nothingness.  The  more  man  frees  himself  from  all  spe- 
ciality of  existence,  the  nearer  does  he  approach  perfection; 
and  in  the  annihilation  of  all  activity — in  pure  passivity — he 
attains  complete  resemblance  to  Fo.  The  abstract  Unity  in 
question  is  not  a  mere  Futurity — a  Spiritual  sphere  existing 
beyond  our  own ;  it  has  to  do  with  the  present ;  it  is  truth  for 
man  [as  he  is],  and  ought  to  be  realized  in  him.  In  Ceylon 
and  the  Burman  Empire — where  this  Buddhistic  Faith  has  its 
roots — there  prevails  an  idea,  that  man  can  attain  by  medita- 
tion, to  exemption  from  sickness,  old  age  and  death. 

But  while  this  is  the  negative  form  of  the  elevation  of  Spirit 
from  immersion  in  the  Objective  to  a  subjective  realization  of 
itself,  this  Religion  also  advances  to  the  consciousness  of  an 
affirmative  form.  Spirit  is  the  Absolute.  Yet  in  comprehend- 
ing Spirit  it  is  a  point  of  essential  importance  in  what  determi- 
nate form  Spirit  is  conceived.  When  we  speak  of  Spirit  as 
universal,  we  know  that  for  us  it  exists  only  in  an  inward  con- 
ception; but  to  attain  this  point  of  view — to  appreciate  Spirit 
in  the  pure  subjectivity  of  Thought  and  conception — is  the  re- 
sult of  a  longer  process  of  culture.  At  that  point  in  history 
at  which  we  have  now  arrived,  the  form  of  Spirit  is  not  ad- 
vanced beyond  Immediateness  (the  idea  of  it  is  not  yet  refined 
by  reflection  and  abstraction).  God  is  conceived  in  an  imme- 
diate, unreflected  form;  not  in  the  form  of  Thought — objec- 
tively. But  this  immediate  Form  is  that  of  humanity.  The 
Sun,  the  Stars  do  not  come  up  to  the  idea  of  Spirit ;  but  Man 
seems  to  realize  it;  and  he,  as  Buddha,  Gautama,  Fo — in  the 


17° 


PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 


form  of  a  departed  teacher,  and  in  the  living  form  of  the  Grand 
Lama — receives  divine  worship.  The  Abstract  Understanding 
generally  objects  to  this  idea  of  a  Godman ;  alleging  as  a  defect 
that  the  form  here  assigned  to  Spirit  is  an  immediate  [unre- 
flecte>.,  unrefined]  one — that  in  fact  it  is  none  other  than  Man 
in  the  concrete.  Here  the  character  of  a  whole  people  is  bound 
up  with  the  theological  view  just  indicated.  The  Mongols — 
a  race  extending  through  the  whole  of  central  Asia  as  far  as 
Siberia,  where  they  are  subject  to  the  Russians — worship  the 
Lama;  and  with  this  form  of  worship  a  simple  political  con- 
dition, a  patriarchal  life  is  closely  united ;  for  they  are  properly 
a  Nomad  people,  and  only  occasionally  are  commotions  excited 
among  them,  when  they  seem  to  be  beside  themselves,  and 
eruptions  and  inundations  of  vast  hordes  are  occasioned.  Of 
the  Lamas  there  are  three :  the  best  known  is  the  Dalai-Lama, 
who  has  his  seat  at  Lassa  in  the  kingdom  of  Thibet.  A  second 
is  the  Teshoo-Lama,  who  under  the  title  of  Bantshen  Rinbot- 
shee  resides  at  Teshoo-Lomboo ;  there  is  also  a  third  in  South- 
ern Siberia.  The  first  two  Lamas  preside  over  two  distinct 
sects,  of  which  the  priests  of  one  wear  yellow  caps,  those  of  the 
other,  red.  The  wearers  of  the  yellow  caps — at  whose  head  is 
the  Dalai-Lama,  and  among  whose  adherents  is  the  Emperor 
of  China — have  introduced  celibacy  among  the  priests,  while 
the  red  sect  allow  their  marriage.  The  English  have  become 
considerably  acquainted  with  the  Teshoo-Lama  and  have  given 
us  descriptions  of  him. 

The  general  form  which  the  spirit  of  the  Lamaistic  develop- 
ment of  Buddhism  assumes,  is  that  of  a  living  human  being; 
while  in  the  original  Buddhism  it  is  a  deceased  person.  The 
two  hold  in  common  the  relationship  to  a  man.  The  idea  of  a 
man  being  worshipped  as  God — especially  a  living  man — has 
in  it  something  paradoxical  and  revolting;  but  the  following 
considerations  must  be  examined  before  we  pronounce  judg- 
ment respecting  it.  The  conception  of  Spirit  involves  its  being 
regarded  as  inherently,  intrinsically,  universal.  This  condition 
must  be  particularly  observed,  and  it  must  be  discovered  how 
in  the  systems  adopted  by  various  peoples  this  universality  is 
kept  in  view.  It  is  not  the  individuality  of  the  subject  that 
is  revered,  but  that  which  is  universal  in  him;  and  which 
among  the  Thibetans,  Hindoos,  and  Asiatics  generally,  is  re- 
garded as  the  essence  pervading  all  things.    This  substantial 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  171 

Unity  of  Spirit  is  realized  in  the  Lama,  who  is  nothing  but  the 
form  in  which  Spirit  manifests  itself;  and  who  does  not  hold 
this  Spiritual  Essence  as  his  peculiar  property,  but  is  regarded 
as  partaking  in  it  only  in  order  to  exhibit  it  to  others,  that 
they  may  attain  a  conception  of  Spirituality  and  be  led  to  piety 
and  blessedness.  The  Lama's  personality  as  such — his  partic- 
ular individuality — is  therefore  subordinate  to  that  substantial 
essence  which  it  embodies.  The  second  point  which  consti- 
tutes an  essential  feature  in  the  conception  of  the  Lama  is  the 
disconnection  from  Nature.  The  Imperial  dignity  of  China 
involved  [as  we  saw]  a  supremacy  over  the  powers  of  Nature ; 
while  here  spiritual  power  is  directly  separated  from  the  vis 
Nature?.  The  idea  never  crosses  the  minds  of  the  Lama-wor- 
shippers to  desire  of  the  Lama  to  show  himself  Lord  of  Nature 
■ — to  exercise  magical  and  miraculous  power;  for  from  the 
being  they  call  God,  they  look  only  for  spiritual  activity  and  the 
bestowal  of  spiritual  benefits.  Buddha  has  moreover  the  ex- 
press names  "  Saviour  of  Souls  " — "  Sea  of  Virtue  " — "  the 
Great  Teacher."  Those  who  have  become  acquainted  with  the 
Teshoo-Lama  depict  him  as  a  most  excellent  person,  of  the 
calmest  temper  and  most  devoted  to  meditation.  Thus  also 
do  the  Lama-worshippers  regard  him.  They  see  in  him  a  man 
constantly  occupied  with  religion,  and  who  when  he  directs  his 
attention  to  what  is  human,  does  so  only  to  impart  consolation 
and  encouragement  by  his  blessing,  and  by  the  exercise  of 
mercy  and  the  bestowal  of  forgiveness.  These  Lamas  lead  a 
thoroughly  isolated  life  and  have  a  feminine  rather  than  mas- 
culine training.  Early  torn  from  the  arms  of  his  parents  the 
Lama  is  generally  a  well-formed  and  beautiful  child.  He  is 
brought  up  amid  perfect  quiet  and  solitude,  in  a  kind  of 
prison :  he  is  well  catered  for,  and  remains  without  exercise  or 
childish  play,  so  that  it  is  not  surprising  that  a  feminine  sus- 
ceptible tendency  prevails  in  his  character.  The  Grand  Lamas 
have  under  them  inferior  Lamas  as  presidents  of  the  great 
fraternities.  In  Thibet  every  father  who  has  four  sons  is 
obliged  to  dedicate  one  to  a  conventual  life.  The  Mongols, 
who  are  especially  devoted  to  Lamaism — this  modification  of 
Buddhism — have  great  respect  for  all  that  possesses  life.  They 
live  chiefly  on  vegetables,  and  revolt  from  killing  any  animal, 
even  a  louse.  This  worship  of  the  Lamas  has  supplanted  Sha- 
manism, that  is,  the  religion  of  Sorcery.     The   Shamans — 


1721  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

priests  of  this  religion — intoxicate  themselves  with  strong 
drinks  and  dancing,  and  while  in  this  state  perform  their  in- 
cantations, fall  exhausted  on  the  ground,  and  utter  words  which 
pass  for  oracular.  Since  Buddhism  and  Lamaism  have  taken 
the  place  of  the  Shaman  Religion,  the  life  of  the  Mongols  has 
been  simple,  prescriptive  and  patriarchal.  Where  they  take  any 
part  in  History,  we  find  them  occasioning  impulses  that  have 
only  been  the  groundwork  of  historical  development.  There 
is  therefore  little  to  be  said  about  the  political  administration 
of  the  Lamas.  A  Vizier  has  charge  of  the  secular  dominion 
and  reports  everything  to  the  Lama :  the  government  is  simple 
and  lenient ;  and  the  veneration  which  the  Mongols  pay  to  the 
Lama,  expresses  itself  chiefly  in  their  asking  counsel  of  him  in 
political  affairs.. 


SECTION  III 

PERSIA 

ASIA  separates  itself  into  two  parts — Hither  and  Farther 
Asia;  which  are  essentially  different  from  each  other. 
While  the  Chinese  and  Hindoos — the  two  great  nations 
of  Farther  Asia,  already  considered — belong  to  the  strictly  Asi- 
atic, namely  the  Mongolian  Race,  and  consequently  possess  a 
quite  peculiar  character,  discrepant  from  ours ;  the  nations  of 
Hither  Asia  belong  to  the  Caucasian,  i.e.  the  European  Stock. 
They  are  related  to  the  West,  while  the  Farther-Asiatic  peoples 
are  perfectly  isolated.  The  European  who  goes  from  Persia  to 
India,  observes,  therefore,  a  prodigious  contrast.  Whereas 
in  the  former  country  he  finds  himself  still  somewhat  at  home, 
and  meets  with  European  dispositions,  human  virtues  and  hu- 
man passions — as  soon  as  he  crosses  the  Indus  (i.e.  in  the  latter 
region),  he  encounters  the  most  repellent  characteristics,  per- 
vading every  single  feature  of  society. 

With  the  Persian  Empire  we  first  enter  on  continuous  His- 
tory. The  Persians  are  the  first  Historical  People;  Persia 
was  the  first  Empire  that  passed  away.  While  China  and 
India  remain  stationary,  and  perpetuate  a  natural  vegetative 
existence  even  to  the  present  time,  this  land  has  been  subject 
to  those  developments  and  revolutions,  which  alone  manifest 
a  historical  condition.  The  Chinese  and  the  Indian  Empire 
assert  a  place  in  the  historical  series  only  on  their  own  account 
and  for  us  (not  for  neighbors  and  successors).  But  here  in 
Persia  first  arises  that  light  which  shines  itself,  and  illuminates 
what  is  around ;  for  Zoroaster's  "  Light  "  belongs  to  the  World 
of  Consciousness — to  Spirit  as  a  relation  to  something  distinct 
from  itself.  We  see  in  the  Persian  World  a  pure  exalted 
Unity,  as  the  essence  which  leaves  the  special  existences  that 
inhere  in  it,  free; — as  the  Light,  which  only  manifests  what 
bodies  are  in  themselves; — a  Unity  which  governs  individuals 
only  to  excite  them  to  become  powerful  for  themselves — to  de- 

173 


i74  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

velop  and  assert  their  individuality.  Light  makes  no  distinc- 
tions :  the  Sun  shines  on  the  righteous  and  the  unrighteous, 
on  high  and  low,  and  confers  on  all  the  same  benefit  and  pros- 
perity. Light  is  vitalizing  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  brought  to 
bear  on  something  distinct  from  itself,  operating  upon  and 
developing  that.  It  holds  a  position  of  antithesis  to  Darkness, 
and  this  antithetical  relation  opens  out  to  us  the  principle  of 
activity  and  life.  The  principle  of  development  begins  with 
the  history  of  Persia.  This  therefore  constitutes  strictly  the 
beginning  of  World-History;  for  the  grand  interest  of  Spirit 
in  History,  is  to  attain  an  unlimited  immanence  of  subjectivity 
— by  an  absolute  antithesis  to  attain  complete  harmony.* 

Thus  the  transition  which  we  have  to  make,  is  only  in  the 
sphere  of  the  Idea,  not  in  the  external  historical  connection. 
The  principle  of  this  transition  is  that  the  Universal  Essence, 
which  we  recognized  in  Brahm,  now  becomes  perceptible  to 
consciousness — becomes  an  object  and  acquires  a  positive  im- 
port for  man.  Brahm  is  not  worshipped  by  the  Hindoos:  he 
is  nothing  more  than  a  condition  of  the  Individual,  a  religious 
feeling,  a  non-objective  existence — a  relation,  which  for  con- 
crete vitality  is  that  of  annihilation.  But  in  becoming  objec- 
tive, this  Universal  Essence  acquires  a  positive  nature:  man 
becomes  free,  and  thus  occupies  a  position  face  to  face  as  it 
were  with  the  Highest  Being,  the  latter  being  made  objective 
for  him.  This  form  of  Universality  we  see  exhibited  in  Persia, 
involving  a  separation  of  man  from  the  Universal  essence; 
while  at  the  same  time  the  individual  recognizes  himself  as 
identical  with  [a  partaker  in],  that  essence.  In  the  Chinese 
and  Indian  principle,  this  distinction  was  not  made.  We  found 
only  a  unit  of  the  Spiritual  and  the  Natural.  But  Spirit  still 
involved  in  Nature  has  to  solve  the  problem  of  freeing  itself 
from  the  latter.  Rights  and  Duties  in  India  are  intimately 
connected  with  special  classes,  and  are  therefore  only  peculiar- 
ities attaching  to  man  by  the  arrangement  of  Nature.  In  China 
this  unity  presents  itself  under  the  conditions  of  paternal  gov- 
ernment. Man  is  not  free  there ;  he  possesses  no  moral  ele- 
ment, since  he  is  identical  with  the  external  command  [obedi- 

*  In    earlier    stages    of    progress,    the  of  this  alien  form  of  validity — recognizes 

mandates  of  Spirit  (social  and  political  these  mandates  as  its  own,  and  adopts 

law),  are  given  as  by  a  power  alien  to  them  freely  as  a  law  of  liberty.    It  then 

itself— as  by  some  compulsion  of  mere  stands  in  clear  opposition  to  its  logical 

Nature.    Gradually  it  sees  the  untruth  contrary— Nature.— Ed. 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  175 

ence  is  purely  natural,  as  in  the  filial  relation — not  the  result 
of  reflection  and  principle].  In  the  Persian  principle,  Unity 
first  elevates  itself  to  the  distinction  from  the  merely  natural; 
we  have  the  negation  of  that  unreflecting  relation  which  al- 
lowed no  exercise  of  mind  to  intervene  between  the  mandate 
and  its  adoption  by  the  will.  In  the  Persian  principle  this 
unity  is  manifested  as  Light,  which  in  this  case  is  not  simply 
light  as  such,  the  most  universal  physical  element,  but  at  the 
same  time  also  spiritual  purity — the  Good.  Speciality — the  in' 
volvement  with  limited  Nature — is  consequently  abolished. 
Light,  in  a  physical  and  spiritual  sense,  imports,  therefore,  ele- 
vation— freedom  from  the  merely  natural.  Man  sustains  a 
relation  to  Light — to  the  Abstract  Good — as  to  something  ob- 
jective, which  is  acknowledged,  reverenced,  and  evoked  to  ac- 
tivity by  his  Will.  If  we  look  back  once  more — and  we  cannot 
do  so  too  frequently — on  the  phases  which  we  have  traversed 
in  arriving  at  this  point,  we  perceive  in  China  the  totality  of 
a  moral  Whole,  but  excluding  subjectivity; — this  totality  di- 
vided into  members,  but  without  independence  in  its  various 
portions.  We  found  only  an  external  arrangement  of  this 
political  Unity.  In  India,  on  the  contrary,  distinctions  made 
themselves  prominent ;  but  the  principle  of  separation  was  un- 
spiritual.  We  found  incipient  subjectivity,  but  hampered  with 
the  condition,  that  the  separation  in  question  is  insurmount- 
able; and  that  Spirit  remains  involved  in  the  limitations  of 
Nature,  and  is  therefore  a  self-contradiction.  Above  this  purity 
of  Castes  is  that  purity  of  Light  which  we  observe  in  Persia; 
that  Abstract  Good,  to  which  all  are  equally  able  to  approach, 
and  in  which  all  equally  may  be  hallowed.  The  Unity  recog- 
nized therefore,  now  first  becomes  a  principle,  not  an  external 
bond  of  soulless  order.  The  fact  that  everyone  has  a  share  in 
that  principle,  secures  to  him  personal  dignity. 

First  as  to  Geographical  position,  we  see  China  and  India, 
exhibiting  as  it  were  the  dull  half-conscious  brooding  of  Spirit, 
in  fruitful  plains — distinct  from  which  is  the  lofty  girdle  of 
mountains  with  the  wandering  hordes  that  occupy  them.  The 
inhabitants  of  the  heights,  in  their  conquest,  did  not  change 
the  spirit  of  the  plains,  but  imbibed  it  themselves.  But  in  Persia 
the  two  principles — retaining  their  diversity — became  united, 
and  the  mountain  peoples  with  their  principle  became  the  pre- 
dominant element.    The  two  chief  divisions  which  we  have  to 


i76  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

mention  are : — the  Persian  Upland  itself,  and  the  Valley  Plains, 
which  are  reduced  under  the  dominion  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Uplands.  That  elevated  territory  is  bounded  on  the  east  by 
the  Soliman  mountains,  which  are  continued  in  a  northerly 
direction  by  the  Hindoo  Koosh  and  Belur  Tag.  The  latter 
separate  the  anterior  region — Bactriana  and  Sogdiana,  occupy- 
ing the  plains  of  the  Oxus — from  the  Chinese  Upland,  which 
extends  as  far  as  Cashgar.  That  plain  of  the  Oxus  itself  lies 
to  the  north  of  the  Persian  Upland,  which  declines  on  the  south 
towards  the  Persian  Gulf.  This  is  the  geographical  position 
of  Iran.  On  its  western  declivity  lies  Persia  (Farsistan)  ; 
higher  to  the  north,  Kourdistan — beyond  this  Armenia.  Thence 
extend  in  a  southwesterly  direction  the  river  districts  of  the 
Tigris  and  the  Euphrates. — The  elements  of  the  Persian  Em- 
pire are  the  Zend  race — the  old  Parsees ;  next  the  Assyrian, 
Median  and  Babylonian  Empire  in  the  region  mentioned;  but 
the  Persian  Empire  also  includes  Asia  Minor,  Egypt,  and  Syria, 
with  its  line  of  coast;  and  thus  combines  the  Upland,  the 
Valley  Plains  and  the  Coast  region. 

Chapter  I.— The  Zend  People 

The  £end  People  derived  their  name  from  the  language  in 
which  the  Zend  Books  are  written,  i.e.  the  canonical  books  on 
which  the  religion  of  the  ancient  Parsees  is  founded.  Of  this 
religion  of  the  Parsees  or  Fire-worshippers,  there  are  still  traces 
extant.  There  is  a  colony  of  them  in  Bombay ;  and  on  the 
Caspian  Sea  there  are  some  scattered  families  that  have  re- 
tained this  form  of  worship.  Their  national  existence  was  put 
an  end  to  by  the  Mahometans.  The  great  Zerdusht — called 
Zoroaster  by  the  Greeks — wrote  his  religious  books  in  the  Zend 
language.  Until  nearly  the  last  third  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
this  language  and  all  the  writings  composed  in  it,  were  entirely 
unknown  to  Europeans ;  when  at  length  the  celebrated  French- 
man, Anquetil-Duperron,  disclosed  to  us  these  rich  treasures. 
Filled  with  an  enthusiasm  for  the  Oriental  World,  which  his 
poverty  did  not  allow  him  to  gratify,  he  enlisted  in  a  French 
corps  that  was  about  to  sail  for  India.  He  thus  reached  Bom- 
bay, where  he  met  with  the  Parsees,  and  entered  on  the  study 
of  their  religious  ideas.  With  indescribable  difficulty  he  suc- 
ceeded in  obtaining  their  religious  books ;  making  his  way  into 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  177 

their  literature,  and  thus  opening  an  entirely  new  and  wide  field 
of  research,  but  which,  owing  to  his  imperfect  acquaintance 
with  the  language,  still  awaits  thorough  investigation. 

Where  the  Zend  people,  mentioned  in  the  religious  books 
of  Zoroaster,  lived,  is  difficult  to  determine.  In  Media  and 
Persia  the  religion  of  Zoroaster  prevailed,  and  Xenophon  re- 
lates that  Cyrus  adopted  it:  but  none  of  these  countries  was 
the  proper  habitat  of  the  Zend  people.  Zoroaster  himself  calls 
it  the  pure  Aryan :  we  find  a  similar  name  in  Herodotus,  for 
he  says  that  the  Medes  were  formerly  called  Arii — a  name  with 
which  the  designation  Iran  is  connected.  South  of  the  Oxus 
runs  a  mountain  chain  in  the  ancient  Bactriana — with  which 
the  elevated  plains  commence,  that  were  inhabited  by  the  Medes, 
the  Parthians,  and  the  Hyrcanians.  In  the  district  watered  by 
the  Oxus  at  the  commencement  of  its  course,  Bactra — probably 
the  modern  Balk — is  said  to  have  been  situated;  from  which 
Cabul  and  Cashmere  are  distant  only  about  eight  days'  journey. 
Here  in  Bactriana  appears  to  have  been  the  seat  of  the  Zend 
people.  In  the  time  of  Cyrus  we  find  the  pure  and  original 
faith,  and  the  ancient  political  and  social  relations  such  as  they 
are  described  in  the  Zend  books,  no  longer  perfect.  Thus  much 
appears  certain,  that  the  Zend  language,  which  is  connected 
with  the  Sanscrit,  was  the  language  of  the  Persians,  Medes, 
and  Bactrians.  The  laws  and  institutions  of  the  people  bear 
an  evident  stamp  of  great  simplicity.  Four  classes  are  men- 
tioned: Priests,  Warriors,  Agriculturists,  and  Craftsmen. 
Trade  only  is  not  noticed;  from  which  it  would  appear  that 
the  people  'still  remained  in  an  isolated  condition.  Governors 
of  Districts,  Towns,  and  Roads,  are  mentioned ;  so  that  all 
points  to  the  social  phase  of  society — the  political  not  being  yet 
developed ;  and  nothing  indicates  a  connection  with  other 
states.  It  is  essential  to  note,  that  we  find  here  no  Castes,  but 
only  Classes,  and  that  there  are  no  restrictions  on  marriage 
between  these  different  Classes ;  though  the  Zend  writings  an- 
nounce civil  laws  and  penalties,  together  with  religious  enact- 
ments. 

The  chief  point — that  which  especially  concerns  us  here— 
is  the  doctrine  of  Zoroaster.  In  contrast  with  the  wretched 
hebetude  of  Spirit  which  we  find  among  the  Hindoos,  a  pure 
ether — an  exhalation  of  Spirit — meets  us  in  the  Persian  con- 
ception.   In  it,  Spirit  emerges  from  that  substantial  Unity  of 


178  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

Nature,  that  substantial  destitution  of  import,  in  which  a  sepa- 
ration has  not  yet  taken  place — in  which  Spirit  has  not  yet  an 
independent  existence  in  contraposition  to  its  object.  This 
people,  namely,  attained  to  the  consciousness,  that  absolute 
Truth  must  have  the  form  of  Universality — of  Unity.  This 
Universal,  Eternal,  Infinite  Essence  is  not  recognized  at  first, 
as  conditioned  in  any  way;  it  is  Unlimited  Identity.  This  is 
properly  (and  we  have  already  frequently  repeated  it)  also  the 
character  of  Brahm.  But  this  Universal  Being  became  objec- 
tive, and  their  Spirit  became  the  consciousness  of  this  its  Es- 
sence; while  on  the  contrary  among  the  Hindoos  this  objectiv- 
ity is  only  the  natural  one  of  the  Brahmins,  and  is  recognized 
as  pure  Universality  only  in  the  destruction  of  consciousness. 
Among  the  Persians  this  negative  assertion  has  become  a  posi- 
tive one;  and  man  has  a  relation  to  Universal  Being  of  such 
a  kind  that  he  remains  positive  in  sustaining  it.  This  One, 
Universal  Being,  is  indeed  not  yet  recognized  as  the  free  Unity 
of  Thought ;  not  yet  "  worshipped  in  Spirit  and  in  Truth  " ; 
but  is  still  clothed  with  a  form — that  of  Light.  But  Light  is 
not  a  Lama,  a  Brahmin,  a  Mountain,  a  brute — this  or  that  par- 
ticular existence — but  sensuous  Universality  itself;  simple 
manifestation.  The  Persian  Religion  is  therefore  no  idol-wor-* 
ship;  it  does  not  adore  individual  natural  objects,  but  the  Uni- 
versal itself.  Light  admits,  moreover,  the  signification  of  the 
Spiritual ;  it  is  the  form  of  the  Good  and  True — the  substan- 
tiality of  knowledge  and  volition  as  well  as  of  all  natural  things. 
Light  puts  man  in  a  position  to  be  able  to  exercise  choice; 
and  he  can  only  choose  when  he  has  emerged  from  that  which 
had  absorbed  him.  But  Light  directly  involves  an  Opposite, 
namely,  Darkness;  just  as  Evil  is  the  antithesis  of  Good.  As 
man  could  not  appreciate  Good,  if  Evil  were  not ;  and  as  he  can 
be  really  good  only  when  he  has  become  acquainted  with  the 
contrary,  so  the  Light  does  not  exist  without  Darkness.  Among 
the  Persians,  Ormuzd  and  Ahriman  present  the  antithesis  in 
question.  Ormuzd  is  the  Lord  of  the  kingdom  of  Light — of 
Good ;  Ahriman  that  of  Darkness — of  Evil.  But  there  is  a 
still  higher  being  from  whom  both  proceeded — a  Universal  Be- 
ing not  affected  by  this  antithesis,  called  Zeruane-Akerene — the 
Unlimited  All.  The  All,  i.e.  is  something  abstract ;  it  does  not 
exist  for  itself,  and  Ormuzd  and  Ahriman  have  arisen  from  it. 
This  Dualism  is  commonly  brought  as  a  reproach  against  Ori- 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  179 

ental  thought ;  and,  as  far  as  the  contradiction  is  regarded  as 
absolute,  that  is  certainly  an  irreligious  understanding  which 
remains  satisfied  with  it.  But  the  very  nature  of  Spirit  de- 
mands antithesis;  the  principle  of  Dualism  belongs  therefore 
to  the  idea  of  Spirit,  which,  in  its  concrete  form,  essentially  in- 
volves distinction.  Among  the  Persians,  Purity  and  Impurity 
have  both  become  subjects  of  consciousness;  and  Spirit,  in 
order  to  comprehend  itself,  must  of  necessity  place  the  Special 
and  Negative  existence  in  contrast  with  the  Universal  and  Pos- 
itive. Only  by  overcoming  this  antithesis  is  Spirit  twice-born 
— regenerated.  The  deficiency  in  the  Persian  principle  is  only 
that  the  Unity  of  the  antithesis  is  not  completely  recognized; 
for  in  that  indefinite  conception  of  the  Uncreated  All,  whence 
Ormuzd  and  Ahriman  proceeded,  the  Unity  is  only  the  abso- 
lutely Primal  existence,  and  does  not  reduce  the  contradictory 
elements  to  harmony  in  itself.  Ormuzd  creates  of  his  own  free 
will;  but  also  according  to  the  decree  of  Zeruane-Akerene  (the 
representation  wavers)  ;  and  the  harmonizing  of  the  contradic- 
tion is  only  to  be  found  in  the  contest  which  Ormuzd  carries 
on  with  Ahriman,  and  in  which  he  will  at  last  conquer.  Ormuzd 
is  the  Lord  of  Light,  and  he  creates  all  that  is  beautiful  and 
noble  in  the  World,  which  is  a  Kingdom  of  the  Sun.  He  is  the 
excellent,  the  good,  the  positive  in  all  natural  and  spiritual  ex- 
istence. Light  is  the  body  of  Ormuzd;  thence  the  worship 
of  Fire,  because  Ormuzd  is  present  in  all  Light;  but  he  is 
not  the  Sun  or  Moon  itself.  In  these  the  Persians  venerate 
only  the  Light,  which  is  Ormuzd.  Zoroaster  asks  Ormuzd  who 
he  is  ?  He  answers :  "  My  Name  is  the  ground  and  centre  of 
all  existence — Highest  Wisdom  and  Science — Destroyer  of  the 
Ills  of  the  World,  and  maintainer  of  the  Universe — Fulness  of 
Blessedness — Pure  Will,"  etc.  That  which  comes  from  Or- 
muzd is  living,  independent,  and  lasting.  Language  testifies 
to  his  power;  prayers  are  his  productions.  Darkness  is  on  the 
contrary  the  body  of  Ahriman;  but  a  perpetual  fire  banishes 
him  from  the  temples.  The  chief  end  of  every  man's  existence 
is  to  keep  himself  pure,  and  to  spread  this  purity  around  him. 
The  precepts  that  have  this  in  view  are  very  diffuse ;  the  moral 
requirements  are  however  characterized  by  mildness.  It  is 
said :  if  a  man  loads  you  with  revilings,  and  insults,  but  subse- 
quently humbles  himself,  call  him  your  friend.     We  read  in 

the  Vendidad,  that  sacrifices  consist  chiefly  of  the  flesh  of  clean 
Vol.  23  I— Classics 


180  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

animals,  flowers  and  fruits,  milk  and  perfumes.  It  is  said 
there,  "  As  man  was  created  pure  and  worthy  of  Heaven,  he 
becomes  pure  again  through  the  law  of  the  servants  of  Or- 
muzd,  which  is  purity  itself ;  if  he  purifies  himself  by  sanctity 
of  thought,  word,  and  deed.  What  is  '  Pure  Thought '  ?  That 
which  ascends  to  the  beginning  of  things.  What  is  '  Pure 
Word '  ?  The  Word  of  Ormuzd  (the  Word  is  thus  personified 
and  imports  the  living  Spirit  of  the  whole  revelation  of  Or- 
muzd). What  is  '  Pure  Deed  '?  The  humble  adoration  of  the 
Heavenly  Hosts,  created  at  the  beginning  of  things."  It  is  im- 
plied in  this  that  man  should  be  virtuous:  his  own  will,  his 
subjective  freedom  is  presupposed.  Ormuzd  is  not  limited  to 
particular  forms  of  existence.  Sun,  Moon,  and  five  other  stars, 
which  seem  to  indicate  the  planets — those  illuminating  and  illu- 
minated bodies — are  the  primary  symbols  of  Ormuzd;  the 
Amshaspand,  his  first  sons.  Among  these,  Mitra  is  also  named : 
but  we  are  at  a  loss  to  fix  upon  the  star  which  this  name  de- 
notes, as  we  are  also  in  reference  to  the  others.  The  Mitra 
is  placed  in  the  Zend  Books  among  the  other  stars ;  yet  in  the 
penal  code  moral  transgressions  are  called  "  Mitrasins  " — e.g. 
breach  of  promise,  entailing  300  lashes;  to  which  in  the  case 
of  theft,  300  years  of  punishment  in  Hell  are  to  be  added. 
Mitra  appears  here  as  the  presiding  genius  of  man's  inward 
higher  life.  Later  on,  great  importance  is  assigned  to  Mitra 
as  the  mediator  between  Ormuzd  and  men.  Even  Herodotus 
mentions  the  adoration  of  Mitra.  In  Rome,  at  a  later  date,  it 
became  very  prevalent  as  a  secret  worship;  and  we  find  traces 
of  it  even  far  into  the  middle  ages.  Besides  those  noticed  there 
are  other  protecting  genii,  which  rank  under  the  Amshaspand, 
their  superiors ;  and  are  the  governors  and  preservers  of  the 
world.  The  council  of  the  seven  great  men  whom  the  Persian 
Monarch  had  about  him  was  likewise  instituted  in  imitation 
of  the  court  of  Ormuzd.  The  Fervers — a  kind  of  Spirit-World 
— are  distinguished  from  the  creatures  of  the  mundane  sphere. 
The  Fervers  are  not  Spirits  according  to  our  idea,  for  they  ex- 
ist in  every  natural  object,  whether  fire,  water,  or  earth.  Their 
existence  is  coeval  with  the  origin  of  things;  they  are  in  all 
places,  in  highroads,  towns,  etc.,  and  are  prepared  to  give  help 
to  supplicants.  Their  abode  is  in  Gorodman,  the  dwelling  of 
the  "  Blessed,"  above  the  solid  vault  of  heaven.  As  Son  of 
Ormuzd  we  find  the  name  Dshemshid:    apparently  the  same 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  181 

as  he  whom  the  Greeks  call  Achaemenes,  whose  descendants  are 
called  Pishdadians — a  race  to  which  Cyrus  was  reported  to  be- 
long. Even  at  a  later  period  the  Persians  seem  to  have  had 
the  designation  Achsemenians  among  the  Romans.  (Horace, 
Odes  III.  i.  44.)  Dshemshid,  it  is  said,  pierced  the  earth  with 
a  golden  dagger ;  which  means  nothing  more  than  that  he  in- 
troduced agriculture.  He  is  said  then  to  have  traversed  the 
various  countries,  originated  springs  and  rivers,  and  thereby 
fertilized  certain  tracts  of  land,  and  made  the  valleys  teem  with 
living  beings,  etc.  In  the  Zendavesta,  the  name  Gustasp  is  also 
frequently  mentioned,  which  many  recent  investigators  have 
been  inclined  to  connect  with  Darius  Hystaspes ;  an  idea  how- 
ever that  cannot  be  entertained  for  a  moment,  for  this  Gustasp 
doubtless  belongs  to  the  ancient  Zend  Race — to  a  period  there- 
fore antecedent  to  Cyrus.  Mention  is  made  in  the  Zend  books 
of  the  Turanians  also,  i.e.  the  Nomade  tribes  of  the  north; 
though  nothing  historical  can  be  thence  deduced. 

The  ritual  observances  of  the  religion  of  Ormuzd  import  that 
men  should  conduct  themselves  in  harmony  with  the  Kingdom 
of  Light.  The  great  general  commandment  is  therefore,  as 
already  said,  spiritual  and  corporeal  purity,  consisting  in  many 
prayers  to  Ormuzd.  It  was  made  specially  obligatory  upon  the 
Persians,  to  maintain  living  existences — to  plant  trees — to  dig 
wells — to  fertilize  deserts ;  in  order  that  Life,  the  Positive,  the 
Pure  might  be  furthered,  and  the  dominion  of  Ormuzd  be  uni- 
versally extended.  External  purity  is  contravened  by  touching 
a  dead  animal,  and  there  are  many  directions  for  being  purified 
from  such  pollution.  Herodotus  relates  of  Cyrus,  that  when 
he  went  against  Babylon,  and  the  river  Gyndes  engulfed  one 
of  the  horses  of  the  Chariot  of  the  Sun,  he  was  occupied  for 
a  year  in  punishing  it,  by  diverting  its  stream  into  small  canals, 
to  deprive  it  of  its  power.  Thus  Xerxes,  when  the  sea  broke 
in  pieces  his  bridges,  had  chains  laid  upon  it  as  the  wicked  and 
pernicious  being — Ahriman. 


182  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY, 

Chapter  II. — The  Assyrians,  Babylonians,  Medes,  and  Persians 

As  the  Zend  Race  was  the  higher  spiritual  element  of  the 
Persian  Empire,  so  in  Assyria  and  Babylonia  we  have  the  ele- 
ment of  external  wealth,  luxury  and  commerce.  Traditions  re- 
specting them  ascend  to  the  remotest  periods  of  History;  but 
in  themselves  they  are  obscure,  and  partly  contradictory;  and 
this  contradiction  is  the  less  easy  to  be  cleared  up,  as  they  have 
no  canonical  books  or  indigenous  works.  The  Greek  historian 
Ctesias  is  said  to  have  had  direct  access  to  the  archives  of  the 
Persian  Kings ;  yet  we  have  only  a  few  fragments  remaining. 
Herodotus  gives  us  much  information;  the  accounts  in  the 
Bible  are  also  valuable  and  remarkable  in  the  highest  degree, 
for  the  Hebrews  were  immediately  connected  with  the  Baby- 
lonians. In  regard  to  the  Persians,  special  mention  must  be 
made  of  the  Epic,  "  Shah-nameh,"  by  Ferdusi — a  heroic  poem 
in  60,000  strophes,  from  which  Gorres  has  given  a  copious 
extract.  Ferdusi  lived  at  the  beginning  of  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury a.d.  at  the  court  of  Mahmoud  the  Great,  at  Ghasna,  east 
of  Cabui  and  Candahar.  The  celebrated  Epic  just  mentioned 
has  the  old  heroic  traditions  of  Iran  (that  is  of  West  Persia 
proper)  for  its  subject;  but  it  has  not  the  value  of  a  historical 
authority,  since  its  contents  are  poetical  and  its  author  a  Ma- 
hometan. The  contest  of  Iran  and  Turan  is  described  in  this 
heroic  poem.  Iran  is  Persia  Proper — the  Mountain  Land  on 
the  south  of  the  Oxus ;  Turan  denotes  the  plains  of  the  Oxus 
and  those  lying  between  it  and  the  ancient  Jaxartes.  A  hero, 
Rustan,  plays  the  principal  part  in  the  poem ;  but  its  narrations 
are  either  altogether  fabulous,  or  quite  distorted.  Mention  is 
made  of  Alexander,  and  he  is  called  Ishkander  or  Skander  of 
Roum.  Roum  means  the  Turkish  Empire  (even  now  one  of 
its  provinces  is  called  Roumelia),  but  it  denotes  also  the  Ro- 
man; and  in  the  poem  Alexander's  Empire  has  equally  the  ap- 
pellation Roum.  Confusions  of  this  kind  are  quite  of  a  piece 
with  the  Mahometan  views.  It  is  related  in  the  poem,  that  the 
King  of  Iran  made  war  on  Philip,  and  that  this  latter  was 
beaten.  The  King  then  demanded  Philip's  daughter  as  a  wife ; 
but  after  he  had  lived  a  long  time  with  her,  he  sent  her  away 
because  her  breath  was  disagreeable.  On  returning  to  her 
father,  she  gave  birth  to  a  son — Skander,  who  hastened  to  Iran 
to  take  possession  of  the  throne  after  the  death  of  his  father. 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  183 

Add  to  the  above  that  in  the  whole  of  the  poem  no  personage 
or  narrative  occurs  that  can  be  connected  with  Cyrus,  and  we 
have  sufficient  data  for  estimating  its  historical  value.  It  has 
a  value  for  us,  however,  so  far  as  Ferdusi  therein  exhibits  the 
spirit  of  his  time,  and  the  character  and  interest  of  Modern 
Persian  views. 

As  regards  Assyria,  we  must  observe,  that  it  is  a  rather  in- 
determinate designation.  Assyria  Proper  is  a  part  of  Meso- 
potamia, to  the  north  of  Babylon.  As  chief  towns  of  this  Em- 
pire are  mentioned,  Atur  or  Assur  on  the  Tigris,  and  of  later 
origin  Nineveh,  said  to  have  been  founded  and  built  by  Ninus, 
the  Founder  of  the  Assyrian  Empire.  In  those  times  one  City 
constituted  the  whole  Empire — Nineveh  for  example:  so  also 
Ecbatana  in  Media,  which  is  said  to  have  had  seven  walls,  be- 
tween whose  inclosures  agriculture  was  carried  on ;  and  within 
whose  innermost  wall  was  the  palace  of  the  ruler.  Thus 
too,  Nineveh,  according  to  Diodorus,  was  480  Stadia  (about  12 
German  miles — 55  English)  in  circumference.  On  the  walls, 
which  were  100  feet  high,  were  fifteen  hundred  towers,  within 
which  a  vast  mass  of  people  resided.  Babylon  included  an 
equally  immense  population.  These  cities  arose  in  consequence 
of  a  twofold  necessity — on  the  one  hand  that  of  giving  up  the 
nomad  life  and  pursuing  agriculture,  handicrafts  and  trade 
in  a  fixed  abode ;  and  on  the  other  hand  of  gaining  protection 
against  the  roving  mountaia  peoples,  and  the  predatory  Arabs. 
Older  traditions  indicate  that  this  entire  valley  district  was 
traversed  by  Nomads,  and  that  this  mode  of  life  gave  way  be- 
fore that  of  the  cities.  Thus  Abraham  wandered  forth  with  his 
family  from  Mesopotamia  westwards,  into  mountainous  Pales- 
tine. Even  at  this  day  the  country  round  Bagdad  is  thus  in- 
tested  by  roving  Nomads.  Nineveh  is  said  to  have  been  built 
2050  years  before  Christ ;  consequently  the  founding  of  the  As- 
syrian Kingdom  is  of  no  later  date.  Ninus  reduced  under  his 
sway  also  Babylonia,  Media  and  Bactriana;  the  conquest  of 
which  latter  country  is  particularly  extolled  as  having  displayed 
the  greatest  energy ;  for  Ctesias  reckons  the  number  of  troops 
that  accompanied  Ninus,  at  1,700,000  infantry  and  a  propor- 
tionate number  of  cavalry.  Bactra  was  besieged  for  a  very 
considerable  time,  and  its  conquest  is  ascribed  to  Semiramis; 
who  with  a  valiant  host  is  said  to  have  ascended  the  steep 
acclivity  of  a  mountain.    The  personality  of  Semiramis  wavers 


184  PHILOSOPHY    OF  HISTORY 

between  mythological  and  historical  representations.  To  her 
is  ascribed  the  building  of  the  Tower  of  Babel,  respecting  which 
we  have  in  the  Bible  one  of  the  oldest  of  traditions. — Babylon 
lay  to  the  south,  on  the  Euphrates,  in  a  plain  of  great  fertility 
and  well  adapted  for  agriculture.  On  the  Euphrates  and  the 
Tigris  there  was  considerable  navigation.  Vessels  came  partly 
from  Armenia,  partly  from  the  South,  to  Babylon,  and  con- 
veyed thither  an  immense  amount  of  material  wealth.  The  land 
round  Babylon  was  intersected  by  innumerable  canals;  more 
for  purposes  of  agriculture — to  irrigate  the  soil  and  to  obviate 
inundations — than  for  navigation.  The  magnificent  buildings 
of  Semiramis  in  Babylon  itself  are  celebrated;  though  how 
much  of  the  city  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  more  ancient  period, 
is  undetermined  and  uncertain.  It  is  said  that  Babylon  formed 
a  square,  bisected  by  the  Euphrates.  On  one  side  of  the  stream 
was  the  temple  of  Bel,  on  the  other  the  great  palaces  of  the 
monarchs.  The  city  is  reputed  to  have  had  a  hundred  brazen 
(i.e.  copper)  gates,  its  walls  being  a  hundred  feet  high,  and 
thick  in  proportion,  defended  by  two  hundred  and  fifty  towers. 
The  thoroughfares  in  the  city  which  led  towards  the  river  were 
closed  every  night  by  brazen  doors.  Ker  Porter,  an  English- 
man, about  twelve  years  ago  (his  whole  tour  occupied  from 
1 817  to  1820)  traversed  the  countries  where  ancient  Babylon 
lay :  on  an  elevation  he  thought  he  could  discover  remains  still 
existing  of  the  old  tower  of  Babel ;  and  supposed  that  he  had 
found  traces  of  the  numerous  roads  that  wound  around  the 
tower,  and  in  whose  loftiest  story  the  image  of  Bel  was  set  up. 
There  are  besides  many  hills  with  remains  of  ancient  struct- 
ures. The  bricks  correspond  with  the  description  in  the  Bibli- 
cal record  of  the  building  of  the  tower.  A  vast  plain  is  covered 
by  an  innumerable  multitude  of  such  bricks,  although  for  many 
thousand  years  the  practice  of  removing  them  has  been  con- 
tinued ;  and  the  entire  town  of  Hila,  which  lies  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  ancient  Babylon,  has  been  built  with  them.  Herodotus 
relates  some  remarkable  facts  in  the  customs  of  the  Babylo- 
nians, which  appear  to  show  that  they  were  people  living  peace- 
ably and  neighborly  with  each  other.  When  anyone  in  Babylon 
fell  ill,  he  was  brought  to  some  open  place,  that  every  passerby 
might  have  the  opportunity  of  giving  him  his  advice.  Mar- 
riageable daughters  were  disposed  of  by  auction,  and  the  high 
price  offered  for  3-  belle  was  allotted  as  a  dowry  for  her  plainer 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  185 

neighbor.  Such  an  arrangement  was  not  deemed  inconsistent 
with  the  obligation  under  which  every  woman  lay  of  prostitut- 
1  ing  herself  once  in  her  life  in  the  temple  of  Mylitta.  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  discover  what  connection  this  had  with  their  religious 
ideas.  This  excepted,  according  to  Herodotus's  account,  im- 
morality invaded  Babylon  only  at  a  later  period,  when  the 
people  became  poorer.  The  fact  that  the  fairer  portion  of  the 
sex  furnished  dowries  for  their  less  attractive  sisters,  seems 
to  confirm  his  testimony  so  far  as  it  shows  a  provident  care 
.for  all ;  while  that  bringing  of  the  sick  into  the  public  places 
indicates  a  certain  neighborly  feeling. 

We  must  here  mention  the  Medes  also.  They  were,  like  the 
Persians,  a  mountain-people,  whose  habitations  were  south  and 
southwest  of  the  Caspian  Sea  and  stretched  as  far  as  Armenia. 
Among  these  Medes  the  Magi  are  also  noticed  as  one  of  the 
six  tribes  that  formed  the  Median  people,  whose  chief  charac- 
teristics were  fierceness,  barbarism,  and  warlike  courage.  The 
capital  Ecbatana  was  built  by  Dejoces,  not  earlier.  He  is  said 
to  have  united  under  his  kingly  rule  the  tribes  of  the  Medes; 
after  they  had  made  themselves  free  a  second  time  from  Assyr- 
ian supremacy,  and  to  have  induced  them  to  build  and  to  fortify 
for  him  a  palace  befitting  his  dignity.  As  to  the  religion  of  the 
Medes,  the  Greeks  call  all  the  oriental  Priests,  Magi,  which  is 
therefore  a  perfectly  indefinite  name.  But  all  the  data  point 
to  the  fact  that  among  the  Magi  we  may  look  for  a  compara- 
tively close  connection  with  the  Zend  religion;  but  that,  al- 
though the  Magi  preserved  and  extended  it,  it  experienced 
great  modifications  in  transmission  to  the  various  peoples  who 
adopted  it.  Xenophon  says,  that  Cyrus  was  the  first  that  sacri- 
ficed to  God  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  Magi.  The  Medes 
therefore  acted  as  a  medium  for  propagating  the  Zend  Religion. 

The  Assyrian-Babylonian  Empire,  which  held  so  many  peo- 
ples in  subjection,  is  said  to  have  existed  for  one  thousand  or 
fifteen  hundred  years.  The  last  ruler  was  Sardanapalus — a 
great  voluptuary,  according  to  the  descriptions  we  have  of  him. 
Arbaces,  the  Satrap  of  Media,  excited  the  other  satraps  against 
him ;  and  in  combination  with  them,  led  the  troops  which  as- 
sembled every  year  at  Nineveh  to  pay  the  tribute,  against  Sar- 
danapalus. The  latter,  although  he  had  gained  many  victories, 
was  at  last  compelled  to  yield  before  overwhelming  force,  and 
to  shut  himself  up  in  Nineveh ;  and,  when  he  could  not  longer 


186  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

offer  resistance,  to  burn  himself  there  with  all  his  treasure. 
According  to  some  chronologists,  this  took  place  888  years  B.C. ; 
according  to  others,  at  the  end  of  the  seventh  century.  After 
this  catastrophe  the  empire  was  entirely  broken  up:  it  was 
divided  into  an  Assyrian,  a  Median,  and  a  Babylonian  Empire, 
to  which  also  belonged  the  Chaldeans — a  mountain  people  from 
the  north  which  had  united  with  the  Babylonians.  These  sev- 
eral Empires  had  in  their  turn  various  fortunes;  though  here 
we  meet  with  a  confusion  in  the  accounts  which  has  never  been 
cleared  up.  Within  this  period  of  their  existence  begins  their 
connection  with  the  Jews  and  Egyptians.  The  Jewish  people 
succumbed  to  superior  force;  the  Jews  were  carried  captive 
to  Babylon,  and  from  them  we  have  accurate  information  re- 
specting the  condition  of  this  Empire.  According  to  Daniel's 
statements  there  existed  in  Babylon  a  carefully  appointed  or- 
ganization for  government  business.  He  speaks  of  Magians — 
from  whom  the  expounders  of  sacred  writings,  the  soothsayers, 
astrologers,  Wise  Men  and  Chaldeans  who  interpreted  dreams, 
are  distinguished.  The  Prophets  generally  say  much  of  the 
great  commerce  of  Babylon ;  but  they  also  draw  a  terrible  pict- 
ure of  the  prevailing  depravity  of  manners. 

The  real  culmination  of  the  Persian  Empire  is  to  be  looked 
for  in  connection  with  the  Persian  people  properly  so  called, 
which,  embracing  in  its  rule  all  Anterior  Asia,  came  into  con- 
tact with  the  Greeks.  The  Persians  are  found  in  extremely 
close  and  early  connection  with  the  Medes ;  and  the  transmis- 
sion of  the  sovereignty  to  the  Persians  makes  no  essential  dif- 
ference ;  for  Cyrus  was  himself  a  relation  of  the  Median  King, 
and  the  names  of  Persia  and  Media  melt  into  one.  At  the  head 
of  the  Persians  and  Medes,  Cyrus  made  war  upon  Lydia  and 
its  king  Croesus.  Herodotus  relates  that  there  had  been  wars 
before  that  time  between  Lydia  and  Media,  but  which  had  been 
settled  by  the  intervention  of  the  King  of  Babylon.  We  recog- 
nize here  a  system  of  States,  consisting  of  Lydia,  Media,  and 
Babylon.  The  latter  had  become  predominant  and  had  ex- 
tended its  dominion  to  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  Lydia  stretched 
eastward  as  far  as  the  Halys;  and  the  border  of  the  western 
coast  of  Asia  Minor,  the  fair  Greek  colonies,  were  subject  to 
it;  a  high  degree  of  culture  was  thus  already  present  in  the 
Lydian  Empire.  Art  and  poetry  were  blooming  there  as  culti- 
vated by  the  Greeks.     These  colonies  also  were  subjected  to 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  187 

Persia.  Wise  men,  such  as  Bias,  and  still  earlier,  Thales,  ad- 
vised them  to  unite  themselves  in  a  firm  league,  or  to  quit  their 
cities  and  possessions,  and  to  seek  out  for  themselves  other 
habitations;  (Bias  meant  Sardinia).  But  such  a  union  could 
not  be  realized  among  cities  which  were  animated  by  the  bitter- 
est jealousy  of  each  other,  and  who  lived  in  continual  quarrel: 
while  in  the  intoxication  of  affluence  they  were  not  capable  of 
forming  the  heroic  resolve  to  leave  their  homes  for  the  sake 
of  freedom.  Only  when  they  were  on  the  very  point  of  being 
subjugated  by  the  Persians,  did  some  cities  give  up  certain  for 
prospective  possessions,  in  their  aspiration  after  the  highest 
good — Liberty.  Herodotus  says  of  the  war  against  the  Lyd- 
ians,  that  it  made  the  Persians  who  were  previously  poor  and 
barbarous,  acquainted  for  the  first  time  with  the  luxuries  of 
life  and  civilization.  After  the  Lydian  conquest  Cyrus  subju- 
gated Babylon.  With  it  he  came  into  possession  of  Syria  and 
Palestine ;  freed  the  Jews  from  captivity,  and  allowed  them  to 
rebuild  their  temple.  Lastly,  he  led  an  expedition  against  the 
Massagetse;  engaged  with  them  in  the  steppes  between  the 
Oxus  and  the  Jaxartes,  but  sustained  a  defeat,  and  died  the 
death  of  a  warrior  and  conqueror.  The  death  of  heroes  who 
have  formed  an  epoch  in  the  History  of  the  World,  is  stamped 
with  the  character  of  their  mission.  Cyrus  thus  died  in  his 
mission,  which  was  the  union  of  Anterior  Asia  into  one  sover- 
eignty without  an  ulterior  object. 

Chapter  III.— The  Persian  Empire  and  its  Constituent  Parts 

The  Persian  Empire  is  an  Empire  in  the  modern  sense- 
like  that  which  existed  in  Germany,  and  the  great  imperial 
reairn  under  the  sway  of  Napoleon;  for  we  find  it  consisting 
of  a  number  of  states,  which  are  indeed  dependent,  but  which 
have  retained  their  own  individuality,  their  manners,  and  laws. 
The  general  enactments,  binding  upon  all,  did  not  infringe 
upon  their  political  and  social  idiosyncrasies,  but  even  protected 
and  maintained  them ;  so  that  each  of  the  nations  that  constitute 
the  whole,  had  its  own  form  of  Constitution.  As  Light  illumi- 
nates everything — imparting  to  each  object  a  peculiar  vitality 
— so  the  Persian  Empire  extends  over  a  multitude  of  nations, 
and  leaves  to  each  one  its  particular  character.  Some  have 
even  kings  of  their  own;  each  one  its  distinct  language,  arms, 


188  PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 

way  of  life,  and  customs.  All  this  diversity  coexists  harmoni- 
ously under  the  impartial  dominion  of  Light.  The  Persian 
Empire  comprehends  all  the  three  geographical  elements,  which 
we  classified  as  distinct.  First,  the  Uplands  of  Persia  and 
Media;  next,  the  Valley-plains  of  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris, 
whose  inhabitants  are  found  united  in  a  developed  form  of  civ- 
ilization, with  Egypt — jthe  Valley-plain  of  the  Nile — where 
agriculture,  industrial  arts  and  sciences  flourished ;  and  lastly 
a  third  element,  viz.  the  nations  who  encounter  the  perils  of 
the  sea — the  Syrians,  the  Phoenicians,  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Greek  colonies  and  Greek  Maritime  States  in  Asia  Minor. 
Persia  thus  united  in  itself  the  three  natural  principles,  while 
China  and  India  remained  foreign  to  the  sea.  We  find  here 
neither  that  consolidated  totality  which  China  presents,  nor 
that  Hindoo  life,  in  which  an  anarchy  of  caprice  is  prevalent 
everywhere.  In  Persia,  the  government,  though  joining  all 
in  a  central  unity,  is  but  a  combination  of  peoples — leaving  each 
of  them  free.  Thereby  a  stop  is  put  to  that  barbarism  and 
ferocity  with  which  the  nations  had  been  wont  to  carry  on  their 
destructive  feuds,  and  which  the  Book  of  Kings  and  the  Book 
of  Samuel  sufficiently  attest.  The  lamentations  of  the  Prophets 
And  their  imprecations  upon  the  state  of  things  before  the  con- 
quest, show  the  misery,  wickedness  and  disorder  that  prevailed 
among  them,  and  the  happiness  which  Cyrus  diffused  over 
the  region  of  Anterior  Asia.  It  was  not  given  to  the  Asiatics 
to  unite  self-dependence,  freedom  and  substantial  vigor  of 
mind,  with  culture,  i.e.  an  interest  for  diverse  pursuits  and  an 
acquaintance  with  the  conveniences  of  life.  Military  valor 
among  them  is  consistent  only  with  barbarity  of  manners.  It 
is  not  the  calm  courage  of  order;  and  when  their  mind  opens 
to  a  sympathy  with  various  interests,  it  immediately  passes  into 
effeminacy;  allows  its  energies  to  sink,  and  makes  men  the 
slaves  of  an  enervated  sensuality. 

Persia 
The  Persians — a  free  mountain  and  nomad  people — though 
ruling  over  richer,  more  civilized  and  fertile  lands — retained 
on  the  whole  the  fundamental  characteristics  of  their  ancient 
mode  of  life.  They  stood  with  one  foot  on  their  ancestral 
territory,  with  the  other  on  their  foreign  conquests.  In  his 
ancestral  land  the  King  was  a  friend  among  friends,  and  as  if 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  189 

surrounded  by  equals.  Outside  of  it,  he  was  the  lord  to  whom 
all  were  subject,  and  bound  to  acknowledge  their  dependence 
by  the  payment  of  tribute.  Faithful  to  the  Zend  religion,  the 
Persians  give  themselves  to  the  pursuit  of  piety  and  the  pure 
worship  of  Ormuzd.  The  tombs  of  the  Kings  were  in  Persia 
Proper ;  and  there  the  King  sometimes  visited  his  countrymen, 
with  whom  he  lived  in  relations  of  the  greatest  simplicity.  He 
brought  with  him  presents  for  fhem,  while  all  other  nations 
were  obliged  to  make  presents  to  him.  At  the  court  of  the 
monarch  there  was  a  division  of  Persian  cavalry  which  consti- 
tuted the  elite  of  the  whole  army,  ate  at  a  common  table,  and 
were  subject  to  a  most  perfect  discipline  in  every  respect.  They 
made  themselves  illustrious  by  their  bravery,  and  even  the 
Greeks  awarded  a  tribute  of  respect  to  their  valor  in  the  Median 
wars.  When  the  entire  Persian  host,  to  which  this  division 
belonged,  was  to  engage  in  an  expedition,  a  summons  was  first 
issued  to  all  the  Asiatic  populations.  When  the  warriors  were 
assembled,  the  expedition  was  undertaken  with  that  character 
of  restlessness,  that  nomadic  disposition  which  formed  the  idio- 
syncrasy of  the  Persians.  Thus  they  invaded  Egypt,  Scythia, 
Thrace,  and  at  last  Greece;  where  their  vast  power  was  des- 
tined to  be  shattered.  A  march  of  this  kind  looked  almost  like 
an  emigration :  their  families  accompanied  them.  Each  people 
exhibited  its  national  features  and  warlike  accoutrements,  and 
poured  forth  en  masse.  Each  had  its  own  order  of  march  and 
mode  of  warfare.  Herodotus  sketches  for  us  a  brilliant  picture 
of  this  variety  of  aspect  as  it  presented  itself  in  the  vast  march 
of  nations  under  Xerxes  (two  millions  of  human  beings  are 
said  to  have  accompanied  him).  Yet,  as  these  peoples  were  so 
unequally  disciplined — so  diverse  in  strength  and  bravery — it 
is  easy  to  understand  how  the  small  but  well-trained  armies 
of  the  Greeks,  animated  by  the  same  spirit,  and  under  matchless 
leadership,  could  withstand  those  innumerable  but  disorderly 
hosts  of  the  Persians.  The  provinces  had  to  provide  for  the 
support  of  the  Persian  cavalry,  which  were  quartered  in  the 
centre  of  the  kingdom.  Babylon  had  to  contribute  the  third 
part  of  the  supplies  in  question,  and  consequently  appears  to 
have  been  by  far  the  richest  district.  As  regards  other  branches 
of  revenue,  each  people  was  obliged  to  supply  the  choicest  of  the 
peculiar  produce  which  the  district  afforded.  Thus  Arabia  gave 
frankincense,  Syria  purple,  etc. 


I9o  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

The  education  of  the  princes — but  especially  that  of  the  heir 
to  the  throne — was  conducted  with  extreme  care.  Till 
their  seventh  year  the  sons  of  the  King  remained  among 
the  women,  and  did  not  come  into  the  royal  presence.  From 
their  seventh  year  forward  they  were  instructed  in  hunting, 
riding,  shooting  with  the  bow,  and  also  in  speaking  the  truth. 
There  is  one  statement  to  the  effect  that  the  prince  received 
instruction  in  the  Magian  lore  of  Zoroaster.  Four  of  the 
noblest  Persians  conducted  the  prince's  education.  The  mag- 
nates of  the  land,  at  large,  constituted  a  kind  of  Diet.  Among 
them  Magi  were  also  found.  They  are  depicted  as  free  men, 
animated  by  a  noble  fidelity  and  patriotism.  Of  such  character 
seem  the  seven  nobles — the  counterpart  of  the  Amshaspand 
who  stand  around  Ormuzd — when  after  the  unmasking  of  the 
false  Smerdis,  who  on  the  death  of  King  Cambyses  gave  him- 
self out  as  his  brother,  they  assembled  to  deliberate  on  the 
most  desirable  form  of  government.  Quite  free  from  passion, 
and  without  exhibiting  any  ambition,  they  agree  that  monarchy 
is  the  only  form  of  government  adapted  to  the  Persian  Empire. 
The  Sun,  and  the  horse  which  first  salutes  them  with  a  neigh, 
decide  the  succession  in  favor  of  Darius.  The  magnitude  of 
the  Persian  dominion  occasioned  the  government  of  the  prov- 
inces by  viceroys — Satraps;  and  these  often  acted  very  arbi- 
trarily to  the  provinces  subjected  to  their  rule,  and  displayed 
hatred  and  envy  towards  each  other ;  a  source  of  much  evil. 
These  satraps  were  only  superior  presidents  of  the  provinces, 
and  generally  left  the  subject  kings  of  the  countries  in  posses- 
sion of  regal  privileges.  All  the  land  and  all  the  water  be- 
longed to  the  Great  King  of  the  Persians.  "  Land  and  Water  " 
were  the  demands  of  Darius  Hystaspes  and  Xerxes  from  the 
Greeks.  But  the  King  was  only  the  abstract  sovereign:  the 
enjoyment  of  the  country  remained  to  the  nations  themselves; 
whose  obligations  were  comprised  in  the  maintenance  of  the 
court  and  the  satraps,  and  the  contribution  of  the  choicest  part 
of  their  property.  Uniform  taxes  first  make  their  appearance 
under  the  government  of  Darius  Hystaspes.  On  the  occasion 
of  a  royal  progress  the  districts  of  the  empire  visited  had  to  give 
presents  to  the  King;  and  from  the  amount  of  these  gifts  we 
may  infer  the  wealth  of  the  unexhausted  provinces.  Thus  the 
dominion  of  the  Persians  was  by  no  means  oppressive,  either  in 
secular  or  religious  respects.    The  Persians,  according  to  He- 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  191 

rodotus,  had  no  idols — in  fact  ridiculed  anthropomorphic  rep- 
resentations of  the  gods;  but  they  tolerated  every  religion, 
although  there  may  be  found  expressions  of  wrath  against  idol- 
atry. Greek  temples  were  destroyed,  and  the  images  of  the 
gods  broken  in  pieces. 

Syria  and  the  Semitic  Western  Asia 

One  element — the  coast  territory — which  also  belonged  to 
the  Persian  Empire,  is  especially  represented  by  Syria.  It  was 
peculiarly  important  to  the  Persian  Empire;  for  when  Conti- 
nental Persia  set  out  on  one  of  its  great  expeditions,  it  was 
accompanied  by  Phoenician  as  well  as  by  Greek  navies.  The 
Phoenician  coast  is  but  a  very  narrow  border — often  only  two 
leagues  broad — which  has  the  high  mountains  of  Lebanon  on 
the  East.  On  the  seacoast  lay  a  series  of  noble  and  rich  cities, 
as  Tyre,  Sidon,  Byblus,  Berytus,  carrying  on  great  trade  and 
commerce;  which  last,  however,  was  too  isolated  and  confined 
to  that  particular  country,  to  allow  it  to  affect  the  whole  Persian 
state.  Their  commerce  lay  chiefly  in  the  direction  of  the  Medi- 
terranean sea,  and  it  reached  thence  far  into  the  West.  Through 
its  intercourse  with  so  many  nations,  Syria  soon  attained  a  high 
degree  of  culture.  There  the  most  beautiful  fabrications  in 
metals  and  precious  stones  were  prepared,  and  there  the  most 
important  discoveries,  e.g.  of  Glass  and  of  Purple,  were  made. 
Written  language  there  received  its  first  development,  for  in 
their  intercourse  with  various  nations  the  need  of  it  was  soon 
felt.  (So,  to  quote  another  example,  Lord  Macartney  observes 
that  in  Canton  itself,  the  Chinese  had  felt  and  expressed  the 
need  of  a  more  pliable  written  language.)  The  Phoenicians 
discovered  and  first  navigated  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  They  had 
settlements  in  Cyprus  and  Crete.  In  the  remote  island  of  Tha- 
sos,  they  worked  gold  mines.  In  the  south  and  southwest  of 
Spain  they  opened  silver  mines.  In  Africa  they  founded  the 
colonies  of  Utica  and  Carthage.  From  Gades  they  sailed  far 
down  the  African  coast,  and  according  to  some,  even  circum- 
navigated Africa.  From  Britain  they  brought  tin,  and  from  the 
Baltic,  Prussian  amber.  This  opens  to  us  an  entirely  new 
principle.  Inactivity  ceases,  as  also  mere  rude  valor ;  in  their 
place  appears  the  activity  of  Industry,  and  that  considerate 
courage  which,  while  it  dares  the  perils  of  the  deep,  rationally 
bethinks  itself  of  the  means  of  safety.     Here  everything  de- 


I9a  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

pends  on  Man's  activity,  his  courage,  his  intelligence ;  white 
the  objects  aimed  at  are  also  pursued  in  the  interest  of  Man. 
Human  will  and  activity  here  occupy  the  foreground,  not  Nat- 
ure and  its  bounty.  Babylonia  had  its  determinate  share  of 
territory,  and  human  subsistence  was  there  dependent  on  the 
course  of  the  sun  and  the  process  of  Nature  generally.  But 
the  sailor  relies  upon  himself  amid  the  fluctuations  of  the  waves, 
and  eye  and  heart  must  be  always  open.  In  like  manner  the 
principle  of  Industry  involves  the  very  opposite  of  what  is 
received  from  Nature;  for  natural  objects  are  worked  up  for 
use  and  ornament.  In  Industry  Man  is  an  object  to  himself, 
and  treats  Nature  as  something  subject  to  him,  on  which  he 
impresses  the  seal  of  his  activity.  Intelligence  is  the  valor 
needed  here,  and  ingenuity  is  better  than  mere  natural  courage. 
At  this  point  we  see  the  nations  freed  from  the  fear  of  Nature 
and  its  slavish  bondage. 

If  we  compare  their  religious  ideas  with  the  above,  we  shall 
see  in  Babylon,  in  the  Syrian  tribes,  and  in  Phrygia,  first  a  rude, 
vulgar,  sensual  idolatry — a  description  of  which  in  its  principal 
features  is  given  in  the  Prophets.  Nothing  indeed  more  specific 
than  idolatry  is  mentioned ;  and  this  is  an  indefinite  term.  The 
Chinese,  the  Hindoos,  the  Greeks,  practise  idolatry;  the  Cath- 
olics, too,  adore  the  images  of  saints;  but  in  the  sphere  of 
thought  with  which  we  are  at  present  occupied,  it  is  the  powers 
of  Nature  and  of  production  generally  that  constitute  the  object 
of  veneration;  and  the  worship  is  luxury  and  pleasure.  The 
Prophets  give  the  most  terrible  pictures  of  this — though  their 
repulsive  character  must  be  partly  laid  to  the  account  of  the 
hatred  of  Jews  against  neighboring  peoples.  Such  representa- 
tions are  particularly  ample  in  the  Book  of  Wisdom.  Not  only 
was  there  a  worship  of  natural  objects,  but  also  of  the  Universal 
Power  of  Nature — Astarte,  Cybele,  Diana  of  Ephesus.  The 
worship  paid  was  a  sensuous  intoxication,  excess,  and  revelry: 
sensuality  and  cruelty  are  its  two  characteristic  traits.  "  When 
they  keep  their  holy  days  they  act  as  if  mad,"  ["  they  are  mad 
when  they  be  merry  " — English  Version]  says  the  Book  of 
Wisdom  (xiv.  28).  With  a  merely  sensuous  life — this  being 
a  form  of  consciousness  which  does  not  attain  to  general  con- 
ceptions— cruelty  is  connected ;  because  Nature  itself  is  the 
Highest,  so  that  Man  has  no  value,  or  only  the  most  trifling. 
Moreover,  the  genius  of  such  a  polytheism  involves  the  de- 


THE   ORIENTAL   WORLD 


193 


struction  of  its  consciousness  on  the  part  of  Spirit  in  striving 
to  identify  itself  with  Nature,  and  the  annihilation  of  the  Spir- 
itual generally.  Thus  we  see  children  sacrificed — priests  of 
Cybele  subjecting  themselves  to  mutilation — men  making  them- 
selves eunuchs — women  prostituting  themselves  in  the  temple. 
As  a  feature  of  the  court  of  Babylon  it  deserves  to  be  remarked, 
that  when  Daniel  was  brought  up  there,  it  was  not  required 
of  him  to  take  part  in  the  religious  observances ;  and  moreover 
that  food  ceremonially  pure  was  allowed  him;  that  he  was  in 
requisition  especially  for  interpreting  the  dreams  of  the  King, 
because  he  had  "  the  spirit  of  the  holy  gods."  The  King  pro- 
poses to  elevate  himself  above  sensuous  life  by  dreams,  as  indi- 
cations from  a  superior  power.  It  is  thus  generally  evident, 
that  the  bond  of  religion  was  lax,  and  that  here  no  unity  is  to  be 
found.  For  we  observe  also  adorations  offered  to  images  of 
kings;  the  power  of  Nature  and  the  King  as  a  spiritual  Power, 
are  the  Highest ;  so  that  in  this  form  of  idolatry  there  is  mani- 
fested a  perfect  contrast  to  the  Persian  purity. 

We  find  on  the  other  hand  something  quite  different  among 
the  Phoenicians,  that  bold  seafaring  people.  Herodotus  tells 
us,  that  at  Tyre  Hercules  was  worshipped.  If  the  divinity  in 
question  i§  not  absolutely  identical  with  the  Greek  demigod, 
there  must  be  understood  by  that  name  one  whose  attributes 
nearly  agree  with  his.  This  worship  is  particularly  indicative 
of  the  character  of  the  people ;  for  it  is  Hercules  of  whom  the 
Greeks  say,  that  he  raised  himself  to  Olympus  by  dint  of  human 
courage  and  daring.  The  idea  of  the  Sun  perhaps  originated 
that  of  Hercules  as  engaged  in  his  twelve  labors ;  but  this  basis 
does  not  give  us  the  chief  feature  of  the  myth,  which  is,  that 
Hercules  is  that  scion  of  the  gods  who,  by  his  virtue  and  exer- 
tion' made  himself  a  god  by  human  spirit  and  valor ;  and  who, 
instead  of  passing  his  life  in  idleness,  spends  it  in  hardship  and 
toil.  A  second  religious  element  is  the  worship  of  Adonis, 
which  takes  place  in  the  towns  of  the  coast  (it  was  celebrated 
in  Egypt  also  by  the  Ptolemies)  ;  and  respecting  which  we  find 
a  notable  passage  in  the  Book  of  Wisdom  (xiv.  13,  etc.),  where 
it  is  said :  "  The  idols  were  not  from  the  beginning — but  were 
invented  through  the  vain  ambition  of  men,  because  the  latter 
are  short-lived.  For  a  father  afflicted  with  untimely  mourning, 
when  he  had  made  an  image  of  his  child  (Adonis)  early  taken 
away,  honored  him  as  a  god,  who  was  a  dead  man,  and  deliv- 


i94  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

ered  to  those  that  were  under  him  ceremonies  and  sacrifices  " 
(E.  V.  nearly).  The  feast  of  Adonis  was  very  similar  to  the 
worship  of  Osiris — the  commemoration  of  his  death — a  funeral 
festival,  at  which  the  women  broke  out  into  the  most  extrava- 
gant lamentations  over  the  departed  god.  In  India  lamentation 
is  suppressed  in  the  heroism  of  insensibility;  uncomplaining, 
the  women  there  plunge  into  the  river,  and  the  men,  ingenious 
in  inventing  penances,  impose  upon  themselves  the  direst  tor- 
tures; for  they  give  themselves  up  to  the  loss  of  vitality,  in 
order  to  destroy  consciousness  in  empty  abstract  contemplation. 
Here,  on  the  contrary,  human  pain  becomes  an  element  of 
worship;  in  pain  man  realizes  his  subjectivity:  it  is  expected 
of  him — he  may  here  indulge  self-consciousness  and  the  feeling 
of  actual  existence.  Life  here  regains  its  value.  A  universality 
of  pain  is  established :  for  death  becomes  immanent  in  the  Di- 
vine, and  the  deity  dies.  Among  the  Persians  we  saw  Light 
and  Darkness  struggling  with  each  other,  but  here  both  prin- 
ciples are  united  in  one — the  Absolute.  The  Negative  is  here, 
too,  the  merely  Natural;  but  as  the  death  of  a  god,  it  is  not 
a  limitation  attaching  to  an  individual  object,  but  is  pure  Nega- 
tivity itself.  And  this  point  is  important,  because  the  generic 
conception  that  has  to  be  formed  of  Deity  is  Spirit;  which 
involves  its  being  concrete,  and  having  in  it  the  element  of 
negativity.  The  qualities  of  wisdom  and  power  are  also  con- 
crete qualities,  but  only  as  predicates;  so  that  God  remains 
abstract  substantial  unity,  in  which  differences  themselves  van- 
ish, and  do  not  become  organic  elements  (Momente)  of  this 
unity.  But  here  the  Negative  itself  is  a  phase  of  Deity — the 
Natural — Death ; — the  worship  appropriate  to  which  is  grief. 
It  is  in  the  celebration  of  the  death  of  Adonis,  and  of  his  resur- 
rection, that  the  concrete  is  made  conscious.  Adonis  is  a  youth, 
who  is  torn  from  his  parents  by  a  too  early  death.  In  China, 
in  the  worship  of  ancestors,  these  latter  enjoy  divine  honor. 
But  parents  in  their  decease  only  pay  the  debt  of  Nature.  When 
a  youth  is  snatched  away  by  death,  the  occurrence  is  regarded 
as  contrary  to  the  proper  order  of  things ;  and  while  affliction 
at  the  death  of  parents  is  no  just  affliction,  in  the  case  of  youth 
death  is  a  paradox.  And  this  is  the  deeper  element  in  the  con- 
ception— that  in  the  Divinity,  Negativity — Antithesis — is  man- 
ifested ;  and  that  the  worship  rendered  to  him  involves  both 
elements — the  pain  felt  for  the  divinity  snatched  away,  and 
the  joy  occasioned  by  his  being  found  again. 


THE   ORIENTAL   WORLD  195 

Judaea 

The  next  people  belonging  to  the  Persian  empire,  in  that 
wide  circle  of  nationalities  which  it  comprises,  is  the  Jewish. 
We  find  here,  too,  a  canonical  book — the  Old  Testament ;  in 
which  the  views  of  this  people — whose  principle  is  the  exact 
opposite  of  the  one  just  described — are  exhibited.  While 
among  the  Phoenician  people  the  Spiritual  was  still  limited 
by  Nature,  in  the  case  of  the  Jews  we  find  it  entirely  purified ; — 
the  pure  product  of  Thought.  Self-conception  appears  in  the 
field  of  consciousness,  and  the  Spiritual  develops  itself  in  sharp 
contrast  to  Nature  and  to  union  with  it.  It  is  true  that  we 
observed  at  an  earlier  stage  the  pure  conception  "  Brahm  " ; 
but  only  as  the  universal  being  of  Nature;  and  with  this  lim- 
itation, that  Brahm  is  not  himself  an  object  of  consciousness. 
Among  the  Persians  we  saw  this  abstract  being  become  an 
object  for  consciousness,  but  it  was  that  of  sensuous  intuition — 
as  Light.  But  the  idea  of  Light  has  at  this  stage  advanced 
to  that  of  "  Jehovah  " — the  purely  One.  This  forms  the  point 
of  separation  between  the  East  and  the  West ;  Spirit  descends 
into  the  depths  of  its  own  being,  and  recognizes  the  abstract 
fundamental  principle  as  the  Spiritual.  Nature — which  in  the 
East  is  the  primary  and  fundamental  existence — is  now  de- 
pressed to  the  condition  of  a  mere  creature;  and  Spirit  now 
occupies  the  first  place.  God  is  known  as  the  creator  of  all 
men,  as  he  is  of  all  nature,  and  as  absolute  causality  generally. 
But  this  great  principle,  as  further  conditioned,  is  exclusive 
Unity.  This  religion  must  necessarily  possess  the  element  of 
exclusiveness,  which  consists  essentially  in  this — that  only  the 
One  People  which  adopts  it,  recognizes  the  One  God,  and  is 
acknowledged  by  him.  The  God  of  the  Jewish  People  is  the 
God  only  of  Abraham  and  of  his  seed :  National  individuality 
and  a  special  local  worship  are  involved  in  such  a  conception 
of  deity.  Before  him  all  other  gods  are  false:  moreover  the 
distinction  between  "  true  "  and  "  false  "  is  quite  abstract ;  for 
as  regards  the  false  gods,  not  a  ray  of  the  Divine  is  supposed 
to  shine  into  them.  But  every  form  of  spiritual  force,  and 
a  fortiori  every  religion  is  of  such  a  nature,  that  whatever  be 
its  peculiar  character,  an  affirmative  element  is  necessarily  con- 
tained in  it.  However  erroneous  a  religion  may  be,  it  possesses 
truth,  although  in  a  mutilated  phase.     In  every  religion  there 


196  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

is  a  divine  presence,  a  divine  relation ;  and  a  philosophy  of  His- 
tory has  to  seek  out  the  spiritual  element  even  in  the  most 
imperfect  forms.  But  it  does  not  follow  that  because  it  is  a 
religion,  it  is  therefore  good.  We  must  not  fall  into  the  lax 
conception,  that  the  content  is  of  no  importance,  but  only  the 
form.  This  latitudinarian  tolerance  the  Jewish  religion  does 
not  admit,  being  absolutely  exclusive. 

The  Spiritual  speaks  itself  here  absolutely  free  of  the  Sen- 
suous, and  Nature  is  reduced  to  something  merely  external 
and  undivine.  This  is  the  true  and  proper  estimate  of  Nature 
at  this  stage ;  for  only  at  a  more  advanced  phase  can  the  Idea 
attain  a  reconciliation  [recognize  itself]  in  this  its  alien  form. 
Its  first  utterances  will  be  in  opposition  to  Nature ;  for  Spirit, 
which  had  been  hitherto  dishonored,  now  first  attains  its  due 
dignity,  while  Nature  resumes  its  proper  positioa  Nature  is 
conceived  as  having  the  ground  of  its  existence  in  another — 
as  something  posited,  created;  and  this  idea,  that  God  is  the 
lord  and  creator  of  Nature,  leads  men  to  regard  God  as  the 
Exalted  One,  while  the  whole  of  Nature  is  only  his  robe  of 
glory,  and  is  expended  in  his  service.  In  contrast  with  this 
kind  of  exaltation,  that  which  the  Hindoo  religion  presents  is 
only  that  of  indefinitude.  In  virtue  of  the  prevailing  spiritual- 
ity the  Sensuous  and  Immoral  are  no  longer  privileged,  but 
disparaged  as  ungodliness.  Only  the  One — Spirit — the  Non- 
sensuous  is  the  Truth ;  Thought  exists  free  for  itself,  and  true 
morality  and  righteousness  can  now  make  their  appearance ; 
for  God  is  honored  by  righteousness,  and  right-doing  is  "  walk- 
ing in  the  way  of  the  Lord."  With  this  is  conjoined  happiness, 
life  and  temporal  prosperity  as  its  reward ;  for  it  is  said : 
"  that  thou  mayest  live  long  in  the  land." — Here  too  also  we 
have  the  possibility  of  a  historical  view ;  for  the  understanding 
has  become  prosaic;  putting  the  limited  and  circumscribed  in 
its  proper  place,  and  comprehending  it  as  the  form  proper  to 
finite  existence:  Men  are  regarded  as  individuals,  not  as  in- 
carnations of  God ;  Sun  as  Sun,  Mountains  as  Mountains — 
not  as  possessing  Spirit  and  Will. 

We  observe  among  this  people  a  severe  religious  ceremonial, 
expressing  a  relation  to  pure  Thought.  The  individual  as  con- 
crete does  not  become  free,  because  the  Absolute  itself  is  not 
comprehended  as  concrete  Spirit;  since  Spirit  still  appears 
posited  as  non-spiritual — destitute  of  its  proper  characteristics. 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD 


197 


It  is  true  that  subjective  feeling  is  manifest — the  pure  heart, 
repentance,  devotion;  but  the  particular  concrete  individuality 
has  not  become  objective  to  itself  in  the  Absolute.  It  therefore 
remains  closely  bound  to  the  observance  of  ceremonies  and  of 
the  Law,  the  basis  of  which  latter  is  pure  freedom  in  its  ab- 
stract form.  The  Jews  possess  that  which  makes  them  what 
they  are,  through  the  One:  consequently  the  individual  has  no 
freedom  for  itself.  Spinoza  regards  the  code  of  Moses  as 
having  been  given  by  God  to  the  Jews  for  a  punishment — a  rod 
of  correction.  The  individual  never  comes  to  the  consciousness 
of  independence;  on  that  account  we  do  not  find  among  the 
Jews  any  belief  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul ;  for  individuality 
does  not  exist  in  and  for  itself.  But  though  in  Judaism  the 
Individual  is  not  respected,  the  Family  has  inherent  value ;  for 
the  worship  of  Jehovah  is  attached  to  the  Family,  and  it  is  con- 
sequently viewed  as  a  substantial  existence.  But  the  State  is 
an  institution  not  consonant  with  the  Judaistic  principle,  and  it 
is  alien  to  the  legislation  of  Moses.  In  the  idea  of  the  Jews, 
Jehovah  is  the  God  of  Abraham,  of  Isaac,  and  Jacob;  who 
commanded  them  to  depart  out  of  Egypt,  and  gave  them  the 
land  of  Canaan.  The  accounts  of  the  Patriarchs  attract 
our  interest.  We  seen  in  this  history  the  transition  from 
the  patriarchal  nomade  condition  to  agriculture.  On  the  whole 
the  Jewish  history  exhibits  grand  features  of  character ;  but 
it  is  disfigured  by  an  exclusive  bearing  (sanctioned  in  its  re- 
ligion), towards  the  genius  of  other  nations  (the  destruction 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Canaan  being  even  commanded) — by  want 
of  culture  generally,  and  by  the  superstition  arising  from  the 
idea  of  the  high  value  of  their  peculiar  nationality.  Miracles, 
too,  form  a  disturbing  feature  in  this  history — as  history;  for 
as  far  as  concrete  consciousness  is  not  free,  concrete  percep- 
tion is  also  not  free;  Nature  is  undeified,  but  not  yet  under- 
stood. 

The  Family  became  a  great  nation ;  through  the  conquest 
of  Canaan,  it  took  a  whole  country  into  possession ;  and  erected 
a  Temple  for  the  entire  people,  in  Jerusalem.  But  properly 
speaking  no  political  union  existed.  In  case  of  national  danger 
heroes  arose,  who  placed  themselves  at  the  head  of  the  armies ; 
though  the  nation  during  this  period  was  for  the  most  part  in 
subjection.  Later  on,  kings  were  chosen,  and  it  was  they  who 
first  rendered  the  Jews  independent.    David  even  made  con* 


198  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

quests.  Originally  the  legislation  is  adapted  to  a  family  only; 
yet  in  the  books  of  Moses  the  wish  for  a  king  is  anticipated. 
The  priests  are  to  choose  him:  he  is  not  to  be  a  foreigner — 
not  to  have  horsemen  in  large  numbers — and  he  is  to  have  few 
wives.  After  a  short  period  of  glory  the  kingdom  suffered 
internal  disruption  and  was  divided.  As  there  was  only  one 
tribe  of  Levites  and  one  Temple — i.e.  in  Jerusalem — idolatry 
was  immediately  introduced.  The  One  God  could  not  be  hon- 
ored in  different  Temples,  and  there  could  not  be  two  kingdoms 
attached  to  one  religion.  However  spiritual  may  be  the  con- 
ception of  God  as  objective,  the  subjective  side — the  honor  ren- 
dered to  him — is  still  very  limited  and  unspiritual  in  character. 
The  two  kingdoms,  equally  infelicitous  in  foreign  and  domestic 
warfare,  were  at  last  subjected  to  the  Assyrians  and  Babylo- 
nians ;  through  Cyrus  the  Israelites  obtained  permission  to  re- 
turn home  and  live  according  to  their  own  laws. 

Egypt 

The  Persian  Empire  is  one  that  has  passed  away,  and  we 
have  nothing  but  melancholy  relics  of  its  glory.  Its  fairest 
and  richest  towns — such  as  Babylon,  Susa,  Persepolis — are 
razed  to  the  ground ;  and  only  a  few  ruins  mark  their  ancient 
site.  Even  in  the  more  modern  great  cities  of  Persia — Ispahan 
and  Shiraz — half  of  them  has  become  a  ruin;  and  they  have 
not — as  is  the  case  with  ancient  Rome — developed  a  new  life, 
but  have  lost  their  place  almost  entirely  in  the  remembrance  of 
the  surrounding  nations.  Besides  the  other  lands  already  enu- 
merated as  belonging  to  the  Persian  Empire,  Egypt  claims 
notice — characteristically  the  Land  of  Ruins ;  a  land  which 
from  hoar  antiquity  has  been  regarded  with  wonder,  and  which 
in  recent  times  also  has  attracted  the  greatest  interest.  Its 
ruins,  the  final  result  of  immense  labor,  surpass  in  the  gigantic 
and  monstrous,  all  that  antiquity  has  left  us. 

In  Egypt  we  see  united  the  elements  which  in  the  Persian 
monarchy  appeared  singly.  We  found  among  the  Persians  the 
adoration  of  Light — regarded  as  the  Essence  of  universal  Nat- 
ure. This  principle  then  develops  itself  in  phases  which  hold 
a  position  of  indifference  towards  each  other.  The  one  is  the 
immersion  in  the  sensuous — among  the  Babylonians  and  Syr- 
ians ;  the  other  is  the  Spiritual  phase,  which  is  twofold :  first 
as  the  incipient  consciousness  of  the  concrete  Spirit  in  the 


THE   ORIENTAL  WORLD 


199 


worship  of  Adonis,  and  then  as  pure  and  abstract  thought 
among  the  Jews.  In  the  former  the  concrete  is  deficient  in 
unity;  in  the  latter  the  concrete  is  altogether  wanting.  The 
next  problem  is  then,  to  harmonize  these  contradictory  ele- 
ments; and  this  problem  presents  itself  in  Egypt.  Of  the 
representations  which  Egyptian  Antiquity  presents  us  with, 
one  figure  must  be  especially  noticed,  viz.  the  Sphinx — in  itself 
a  riddle — an  ambiguous  form,  half  brute,  half  human.  The 
Sphinx  may  be  regarded  as  a  symbol  of  the  Egyptian  Spirit. 
The  human  head  looking  out  from  the  brute  body,  exhibits 
Spirit  as  it  begins  to  emerge  from  the  merely  Natural — to  tear 
itself  loose  therefrom  and  already  to  look  more  freely  around 
it;  without,  however,  entirely  freeing  itself  from  the  fetters 
Nature  had  imposed.  The  innumerable  edifices  of  the  Egyp- 
tians are  half  below  the  ground,  and  half  rise  above  it  into  the 
air.  The  whole  land  is  divided  into  a  kingdom  of  life  and 
a  kingdom  of  death.  The  colossal  statue  of  Memnon  resounds 
at  the  first  glance  of  the  young  morning  Sun ;  though  it  is  not 
yet  the  free  light  of  Spirit  with  which  it  vibrates.  Written 
language  is  still  a  hieroglyphic ;  and  its  basis  is  only  the  sensu- 
ous image,  not  the  letter  itself. 

Thus  the  memorials  of  Egypt  themselves  give  us  a  multitude 
of  forms  and  images  that  express  its  character;  we  recognize 
a  Spirit  in  them  which  feels  itself  compressed ;  which  utters 
itself,  but  only  in  a  sensuous  mode. 

Egypt  was  always  the  Land  of  Marvels,  and  has  remained 
so  to  the  present  day.  It  is  from  the  Greeks  especially  that 
we  get  information  respecting  it,  and  chiefly  from  Herodotus. 
This  intelligent  historiographer  himself  visited  the  country  of 
which  he  wished  to  give  an  account,  and  at  its  chief  towns 
made  acquaintance  with  the  Egyptian  priests.  Of  all  that  he 
saw  and  heard,  he  gives  an  accurate  record ;  but  the  deeper 
symbolism  of  the  Egyptian  mythology  he  has  refrained  from 
unfolding.  This  he  regards  as  something  sacred,  and  respect- 
ing which  he  cannot  so  freely  speak  as  of  merely  external  ob- 
jects. Besides  him  Diodorus  Siculus  is  an  authority  of  great 
importance ;  and  among  the  Jewish  historians,  Josephus. 

In  their  architecture  and  hieroglyphics,  the  thoughts  and 
conceptions  of  the  Egyptians  are  expressed.  A  national  work 
in  the  department  of  language  is  wanting:  and  that  not  only 
to  us,  but  to  the  Egyptians  themselves;   they  could  not  have 


zoo  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

any,  because  they  had  not  advanced  to  an  understanding  of 
themselves.  Nor  was  there  any  Egyptian  history,  until  at  last 
Ptolemy  Philadelphus — he  who  had  the  sacred  books  of  the 
Jews  translated  into  Greek — prompted  the  High-Priest  Mane- 
tho  to  write  an  Egyptian  history.  Of  this  we  have  only  extracts 
— list  of  Kings;  which  however  have  occasioned  the  greatest 
perplexities  and  contradictory  views.  To  become  acquainted 
with  Egypt,  we  must  for  the  most  part  have  recourse  to  the 
notices  of  the  ancients,  and  the  immense  monuments  that  are 
left  us.  We  find  a  number  of  granite  walls  on  which  hiero- 
glyphics are  graved,  and  the  ancients  have  given  us  explana- 
tions of  some  of  them,  but  which  are  quite  insufficient.  In 
recent  times  attention  has  especially  been  recalled  to  them,  and 
after  many  efforts  something  at  least  of  the  hieroglyphic  writ- 
ing has  been  deciphered.  The  celebrated  Englishman,  Thomas 
Young,  first  suggested  a  method  of  discovery,  and  called  atten- 
tion to  the  fact,  that  there  are  small  surfaces  separated  from 
the  other  hieroglyphics,  and  in  which  a  Greek  translation  is 
perceptible.  By  comparison  Young  made  out  three  names — 
Berenice,  Cleopatra,  and  Ptolemy — and  this  was  the  first  step 
in  deciphering  them.  It  was  found  at  a  later  date,  that  a  great 
part  of  the  hieroglyphics  are  phonetic,  that  is,  express  sounds. 
Thus  the  figure  of  an  eye  denotes  first  the  eye  itself,  but  sec- 
ondly the  first  letter  of  the  Egyptian  word  that  means  "  eye  " 
(as  in  Hebrew  the  figure  of  a  house,  2,  denotes  the  letter  b, 
with  which  the  word  T\^2,  House,  begins).  The  celebrated 
Champollion  (the  younger),  first  called  attention  to  the  fact 
that  the  phonetic  hieroglyphs  are  intermingled  with  those  which 
mark  conceptions;  and  thus  classified  the  hieroglyphs  and  es- 
tablished settled  principles  for  deciphering  them. 

The  History  of  Egypt,  as  we  have  it,  is  full  of  the  greatest 
contradictions.  The  Mythical  is  blended  with  the  Historical, 
and  the  statements  are  as  diverse  as  can  be  imagined.  Euro- 
pean literati  have  eagerly  investigated  the  lists  given  by  Mane- 
tho  and  have  relied  upon  them,  and  several  names  of  kings  have 
been  confirmed  by  the  recent  discoveries.  Herodotus  says  that 
according  to  the  statements  of  the  priests,  gods  had  formerly 
reigned  over  Egypt,  and  that  from  the  first  human  king  down 
to  the  King  Setho  341  generations,  or  11,340  years,  had  passed 
away ;  but  that  the  first  human  ruler  was  Menes  (the  resem- 
blance of  the  name  to  the  Greek  Minos  and  the  Hindoo  Manu 


THE   ORIENTAL  WORLD  201 

is  striking).  With  the  exception  of  the  Thebaid — its  most 
southern  part — Egypt  was  said  by  them  to  have  formed  a  lake ; 
the  Delta  presents  reliable  evidence  of  having  been  produced 
by  the  silt  of  the  Nile.  As  the  Dutch  have  gained  their  terri- 
tory from  the  sea,  and  have  found  means  to  sustain  themselves 
upon  it;  so  the  Egyptians  first  acquired  their  country,  and 
maintained  its  fertility  by  canals  and  lakes.  An  important  feat- 
ure in  the  history  of  Egypt  is  its  descent  from  Upper  to  Lower 
Egypt — from  the  South  to  the  North.  With  this  is  connected 
the  consideration  that  Egypt  probably  received  its  culture  from 
Ethiopia ;  principally  from  the  island  Meroe,  which,  according 
to  recent  hypotheses,  was  occupied  by  a  sacerdotal  people. 
Thebes  in  Upper  Egypt  was  the  most  ancient  residence  of  the 
Egyptian  kings.  Even  in  Herodotus's  time  it  was  in  a  state 
of  dilapidation.  The  ruins  of  this  city  present  the  most  enor- 
mous specimens  of  Egyptian  architecture  that  we  are  ac- 
quainted with.  Considering  their  antiquity  they  are  remark- 
ably well  preserved :  which  is  partly  owing  to  the  perpetually 
cloudless  sky.  The  centre  of  the  kingdom  was  then  transferred 
to  Memphis,  not  far  from  the  modern  Cairo ;  and  lastly  to  Sais, 
in  the  Delta  itself.  The  structures  that  occur  in  the  locality  of 
this  city  are  of  very  late  date  and  imperfectly  preserved.  He- 
rodotus tells  us  that  Memphis  was  referred  to  so  remote  a 
founder  as  Menes.  Among  the  later  kings  must  be  especially 
noticed  Sesostris,  who,  according  to  Champollion,  is  Rameses 
the  Great.  To  him  in  particular  are  referred  a  number  of  mon- 
uments and  pictures  in  which  are  depicted  his  triumphal  pro- 
cessions, and  the  captives  taken  in  battle.  Herodotus  speaks 
of  his  conquests  in  Syria,  extending  even  to  Colchis ;  and  illus- 
trates his  statement  by  the  great  similarity  between  the  man- 
ners of  the  Colchians  and  those  of  the  Egyptians ;  these  two 
nations  and  the  Ethiopians  were  the  only  ones  that  had  always 
practised  circumcision.  Herodotus  says,  moreover,  that  Sesos- 
tris had  vast  canals  dug  through  the  whole  of  Egypt,  which 
served  to  convey  the  water  of  the  Nile  to  every  part.  It  may 
be  generally  remarked  that  the  more  provident  the  government 
in  Egypt  was,  so  much  the  more  regard  did  it  pay  to  the  main- 
tenance of  the  canals,  while  under  negligent  governments  the 
desert  got  the  upper  hand ;  for  Egypt  was  engaged  in  a  con- 
stant struggle  with  the  fierceness  of  the  heat  and  with  the  water 
of  the  Nile.    It  appears  from  Herodotus,  that  the  country  had 


,202  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

become  impassable  for  cavalry  in  consequence  of  the  canals; 
while,  on  the  contrary,  we  see  from  the  books  of  Moses,  how 
celebrated  Egypt  once  was  in  this  respect.  Moses  says  that 
if  the  Jews  desired  a  king,  he  must  not  marry  too  many  wives, 
nor  send  for  horses  from  Egypt. 

Next  to  Sesostris  the  Kings  Cheops  and  Chephren  deserve 
special  mention.  They  are  said  to  have  built  enormous  pyra- 
mids and  closed  the  temples  of  the  priests.  A  son  of  Cheops — 
Mycerinus — is  said  to  have  reopened  them ;  after  him  the  Ethi- 
opians invaded  the  country,  and  their  king,  Sabaco,  made  him- 
self sovereign  of  Egypt.  But  Anysis,  the  successor  of  Myceri- 
nus, fled  into  the  marshes — to  the  mouth  of  the  Nile ;  only  after 
the  departure  of  the  Ethiopians  did  he  make  his  appearance 
again.  He  was  succeeded  by  Setho,  who  had  been  a  priest  of 
Phtha  (supposed  to  be  the  same  as  Hephaestus)  :  under  his 
government,  Sennacherib,  King  of  the  Assyrians,  invaded  the 
country.  Setho  had  always  treated  the  warrior-caste  with  great 
disrespect,  and  even  robbed  them  of  their  lands ;  and  when  he 
invoked  their  assistance,  they  refused  it.  He  was  obliged  there- 
fore to  issue  a  general  summons  to  the  Egyptians,  and  assem- 
bled a  host  composed  of  hucksters,  artisans,  and  market  people. 
In  the  Bible  we  are  told  that  the  enemies  fled,  and  that  it  was 
the  angels  who  routed  them ;  but  Herodotus  relates  that  field- 
mice  came  in  the  night  and  gnawed  the  quivers  and  bows  of 
the  enemy,  so  that  the  latter,  deprived  of  their  weapons,  were 
compelled  to  flee.  After  the  death  of  Setho,  the  Egyptians 
(Herodotus  tells  us)  regarded  themselves  as  free,  and  chose 
themselves  twelve  kings,  who  formed  a  federal  union — as  a 
symbol  of  which  they  built  the  Labyrinth,  consisting  of  an  im- 
mense number  of  rooms  and  halls  above  and  below  ground.  In 
the  year  650  b.c.  one  of  these  kings,  Psammitichus,  with  the 
help  of  the  Ionians  and  Carians  (to  whom  he  promised  land  in 
Lower  Egypt),  expelled  the  eleven  other  kings.  Till  that  time 
Egypt  had  remained  secluded  from  the  rest  of  the  world ;  and 
at  sea  it  had  established  no  connection  with  other  nations. 
Psammitichus  commenced  such  a  connection,  and  thereby  led 
the  way  to  the  ruin  of  Egypt.  From  this  point  the  history  be- 
comes clearer,  because  it  is  based  on  Greek  accounts.  Psammit- 
ichus was  followed  by  Necho,  who  began  to  dig  a  canal,  which 
was  to  unite  the  Nile  with  the  Red  Sea,  but  which  was  not 
completed  until  the  reign  of  Darius  Nothus.    The  plan  of  unit- 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  203 

ing  the  Mediterranean  Sea  with  the  Arabian  Gulf,  and  the 
wide  ocean,  is  not  so  advantageous  as  might  be  supposed ;  since 
in  the  Red  Sea — which  on  other  accounts  is  very  difficult  to  nav- 
igate— there  prevails  for  about  nine  months  in  the  year  a  con- 
stant north  wind,  so  that  it  is  only  during  three  months  that 
the  passage  from  south  to  north  is  feasible.  Necho  was  fol- 
lowed by  Psammis,  and  the  latter  by  Apries,  who  led  an  army 
against  Sidon,  and  engaged  with  the  Tyrians  by  sea:  against 
Cyrene  also  he  sent  an  army,  which  was  almost  annihilated  by 
the  Cyrenians.  The  Egyptians  rebelled  against  him,  accusing 
him  of  wishing  to  lead  them  to  destruction ;  but  this  revolt  was 
probably  caused  by  the  favor  shown  by  him  to  the  Carians  and 
Ionians.  Amasis  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  rebels,  con- 
quered the  king,  and  possessed  himself  of  the  throne.  By 
Herodotus  he  is  depicted  as  a  humorous  monarch,  who,  how- 
ever, did  not  always  maintain  the  dignity  of  the  throne.  From 
a  very  humble  station  he  had  raised  himself  to  royalty  by 
ability,  astuteness,  and  intelligence,  and  he  exhibited  in  all 
other  relations  the  same  keen  understanding.  In  the  morning 
he  held  his  court  of  judicature,  and  listened  to  the  complaints 
of  the  people;  but  in  the  afternoon,  feasted  and  surrendered 
himself  to  pleasure.  To  his  friends,  who  blamed  him  on  this 
account,  and  told  him  that  he  ought  to  give  the  whole  day 
to  business,  he  made  answer :  "  If  the  bow  is  constantly  on  the 
stretch,  it  becomes  useless  or  breaks."  As  the  Egyptians 
thought  less  of  him  on  account  of  his  mean  descent,  he  had 
a  golden  basin — used  for  washing  the  feet — made  into  the  im- 
age of  a  god  in  high  honor  among  the  Egyptians;  this  he 
meant  as  a  symbol  of  his  own  elevation.  Herodotus  relates, 
moreover,  that  he  indulged  in  excesses  as  a  private  man,  dissi- 
pated the  whole  of  his  property,  and  then  betook  himself  to 
stealing.  This  contrast  of  a  vulgar  soul  and  a  keen  intellect 
is  characteristic  in  an  Egyptian  king. 

Amasis  drew  down  upon  him  the  ill-will  of  King  Cambyses. 
Cyrus  desired  an  oculist  from  the  Egyptians ;  for  at  that  time 
the  Egyptian  oculists  were  very  famous,  their  skill  having 
been  called  out  by  the  numerous  eye-diseases  prevalent  in 
Egypt.  This  oculist,  to  revenge  himself  for  having  been  sent 
out  of  the  country,  advised  Cambyses  to  ask  for  the  daughter 
of  Amasis  in  marriage ;  knowing  well  that  Amasis  would  either 

be  rendered  unhappy  by  giving  her  to  him,  or  on    ?ae  othec 
Vol.  23  J— Classics 


204  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

hand,  incur  the  wrath  of  Cambyses  by  refusing.  Amasis  would 
not  give  his  daughter  to  Cambyses,  because  the  latter  desired 
her  as  an  inferior  wife  (for  his  lawful  spouse  must  be  a  Per- 
sian) ;  but  sent  him,  under  the  name  of  his  own  daughter,  that 
of  Apries,  who  afterwards  discovered  her  real  name  to  Cam- 
byses. The  latter  was  so  incensed  at  the  deception,  that  he  led 
an  expedition  against  Egypt,  conquered  that  country,  and 
united  it  with  the  Persian  Empire. 

As  to  the  Egyptian  Spirit,  it  deserves  mention  here,  that  the 
Elians  in  Herodotus's  narrative  call  the  Egyptians  the  wisest 
of  mankind.  It  also  surprises  us  to  find  among  them,  in  the 
vicinity  of  African  stupidity,  reflective  intelligence,  a  thor- 
oughly rational  organization  characterizing  all  institutions,  and 
most  astonishing  works  of  art.  The  Egyptians  were,  like  the 
Hindoos,  divided  into  castes,  and  the  children  always  continued 
the  trade  and  business  of  their  parents.  On  this  account,  also, 
the  Mechanical  and  Technical  in  the  arts  was  so  much  devel- 
oped here;  while  the  hereditary  transmission  of  occupations 
did  not  produce  the  same  disadvantageous  results  in  the  char- 
acter of  the  Egyptians  as  in  India.  Herodotus  mentions  the 
seven  following  castes :  the  priests,  the  warriors,  the  neatherds, 
the  swineherds,  the  merchants  (or  trading  population  gener- 
ally), the  interpreters — who  seem  only  at  a  later  date  to  have 
constituted  a  separate  class — and,  lastly,  the  seafaring  class. 
Agriculturists  are  not  named  here,  probably  because  agriculture 
was  the  occupation  of  several  castes,  as,  e.g.,  the  warriors,  to 
whom  a  portion  of  the  land  was  given.  Diodorus  and  Strabo 
give  a  different  account  of  these  caste-divisions.  Only  priests, 
warriors,  herdsmen,  agriculturists,  and  artificers  are  mentioned, 
to  which  latter,  perhaps,  tradesmen  also  belong.  Herodotus 
says  of  the  priests,  that  they  in  particular  received  arable  land, 
and  had  it  cultivated  for  rent ;  for  the  land  generally  was  in 
the  possession  of  the  priests,  warriors,  and  kings.  Joseph  was 
a  minister  of  the  king,  according  to  Holy  Scripture,  and  con- 
trived to  make  him  master  of  all  landed  property.  But  the 
several  occupations  did  not  remain  so  stereotyped  as  among  the 
Hindoos ;  for  we  find  the  Israelites,  who  were  originally  herds- 
men, employed  also  as  manual  laborers :  and  there  was  a  king 
— as  stated  above — who  formed  an  army  of  manual  laborers 
alone.  The  castes  are  not  rigidly  fixed,  but  struggle  with  and 
come  into  contact  with  one  another-;    we  often  find  cases  of 


THE   ORIENTAL  WORLD 


205 


their  being  broken  up  and  in  a  state  of  rebellion.  The  warrior- 
caste,  at  one  time  discontented  on  account  of  their  not  being 
released  from  their  abodes  in  the  direction  of  Nubia,  and  des- 
perate at  not  being  able  to  make  use  of  their  lands,  betake  them- 
selves to  Meroe,  and  foreign  mercenaries  are  introduced  into 
the  country. 

Of  the  mode  of  life  among  the  Egyptians,  Herodotus  sup- 
plies a  very  detailed  account,  giving  prominence  to  everything 
which  appears  to  him  to  deviate  from  Greek  manners.  Thus 
the  Egyptians  had  physicians  specially  devoted  to  particular 
diseases;  the  women  were  engaged  in  outdoor  occupations, 
while  the  men  remained  at  home  to  weave.  In  one  part  of 
Egypt  polygamy  prevailed ;  in  another,  monogamy ;  the  women 
had  but  one  garment,  the  men  two ;  they  wash  and  bathe  much, 
and  undergo  purification  every  month.  All  this  points  to  a 
condition  of  settled  peace.  As  to  arrangements  of  police,  the 
law  required  that  every  Egyptian  should  present  himself,  at  a 
time  appointed,  before  the  superintendent  under  whom  he  lived, 
and  state  from  what  resources  he  obtained  his  livelihood.  If 
he  could  not  refer  to  any,  he  was  punished  with  death.  This 
law,  however,  was  of  no  earlier  date  than  Amasis.  The  greatest 
care,  moreover,  was  observed  in  the  division  of  the  arable  land, 
as  also  in  planning  canals  and  dikes ;  under  Sabaco,  the  Ethi- 
opian king,  says  Herodotus,  many  cities  were  elevated  by  dikes. 

The  business  of  courts  of  justice  was  administered  with  very 
great  care.  They  consisted  of  thirty  judges  nominated  by  the 
district,  and  who  chose  their  own  president.  Pleadings  were 
conducted  in  writing,  and  proceeded  as  far  as  the  "  rejoinder." 
Diodorus  thinks  this  plan  very  effectual,  in  obviating  the  per- 
verting influence  of  forensic  oratory,  and  of  the  sympathy  of 
the  judges.  The  latter  pronounced  sentence  silently,  and  in  a 
hieroglyphical  manner.  Herodotus  says,  that  they  had  a  sym- 
bol of  truth  on  their  breasts,  and  turned  it  towards  that  side 
in  whose  favor  the  cause  was  decided,  or  adorned  the  victorious 
party  with  it.  The  king  himself  had  to  take  part  in  judicial 
business  every  day.  Theft,  we  are  told,  was  forbidden;  but 
the  law  commanded  that  thieves  should  inform  against  them- 
selves. If  they  did  so,  they  were  not  punished,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  were  allowed  to  keep  a  fourth  part  of  what  they  had 
stolen.  This  perhaps  was  designed  to  excite  and  keep  in  exer- 
cise that  cunning  for  which  the  Egyptians  were  so  celebrated. 


206  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

The  intelligence  displayed  in  their  legislative  economy,  ap- 
pears characteristic  of  the  Egyptians.  This  intelligence,  which 
manifests  itself  in  the  practical,  we  also  recognize  in  the  pro- 
ductions of  art  and  science.  The  Egyptians  are  reported  to 
have  divided  the  year  into  twelve  months,  and  each  month  into 
thirty  days.  At  the  end  of  the  year  they  intercalated  five  addi- 
tional days,  and  Herodotus  says  that  their  arrangement  was 
better  than  that  of  the  Greeks.  The  intelligence  of  the  Egyp- 
tians especially  strikes  us  in  the  department  of  mechanics. 
Their  vast  edifices — such  as  no  other  nation  has  to  exhibit, 
and  which  excel  all  others  in  solidity  and  size — sufficiently 
prove  their  artistic  skill ;  to  whose  cultivation  they  could  largely 
devote  themselves,  because  the  inferior  castes  did  not  trouble 
themselves  with  political  matters.  Diodorus  Siculus  says,  that 
Egypt  was  the  only  country  in  which  the  citizens  did  not 
trouble  themselves  about  the  state,  but  gave  their  whole  atten- 
tion to  their  private  business.  Greeks  and  Romans  must  have 
been  especially  astonished  at  such  a  state  of  things. 

On  account  of  its  judicious  economy,  Egypt  was  regarded 
by  the  ancients  as  the  pattern  of  a  morally  regulated  condition 
of  things — as  an  ideal  such  as  Pythagoras  realized  in  a  limited 
select  society,  and  Plato  sketched  on  a  larger  scale.  But  in  such 
ideals  no  account  is  taken  of  passion.  A  plan  of  society  that 
is  to  be  adopted  and  acted  upon,  as  an  absolutely  complete  one 
— in  which  everything  has  been  considered,  and  especially  the 
education  and  habituation  to  it,  necessary  to  its  becoming  a 
second  nature — is  altogether  opposed  to  the  nature  of  Spirit, 
which  makes  contemporary  life  the  object  on  which  it  acts; 
itself  being  the  infinite  impulse  of  activity  to  alter  its  forms. 
This  impulse  also  expressed  itself  in  Egypt  in  a  peculiar  way. 
It  would  appear  at  first  as  if  a  condition  of  things  so  regular, 
so  determinate  in  every  particular,  contained  nothing  that  had 
a  peculiarity  entirely  its  own.  The  introduction  of  a  religious 
element  would  seem  to  be  an  affair  of  no  critical  moment,  pro- 
vided the  higher  necessities  of  men  were  satisfied ;  we  should 
in  fact  rather  expect  that  it  would  be  introduced  in  a  peaceful 
way  and  in  accordance  with  the  moral  arrangement  of  things 
already  mentioned.  But  in  contemplating  the  Religion  of  the 
Egyptians,  we  are  surprised  by  the  strangest  and  most  wonder- 
ful phenomena,  and  perceive  that  this  calm  order  of  things, 
bound  fast  by  legislative  enactment,  is  not  like  that  of  the 


THE   ORIENTAL   WORLD  207 

Chinese,  but  that  we  have  here  to  do  with  a  Spirit  entirely 
different — one  full  of  stirring  and  urgent  impulses.  We  have 
here  the  African  element,  in  combination  with  Oriental  massive- 
ness,  transplanted  to  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  that  grand  locale 
of  the  display  of  nationalities ;  but  in  such  a  manner,  that  here 
there  is  no  connection  with  foreign  nations — this  mode  of  stim- 
ulating intellect  appearing  superfluous;  for  we  have  here  a 
prodigious  urgent  striving  within  the  nationality  itself,  and 
which  within  its  own  circle  shoots  out  into  an  objective  realiza- 
tion of  itself  in  the  most  monstrous  productions.  It  is  that 
African  imprisonment  of  ideas  combined  with  the  infinite  im- 
pulse of  the  spirit  to  realize  itself  objectively,  which  we  find 
here.  But  Spirit  has  still,  as  it  were,  an  iron  band  around  its 
forehead;  so  that  it  cannot  attain  to  the  free  consciousness 
of  its  existence,  but  produces  this  only  as  the  problem,  the 
enigma  of  its  being. 

The  fundamental  conception  of  that  which  the  Egyptians 
regard  as  the  essence  of  being,  rests  on  the  determinate  char- 
acter of  the  natural  world,  in  which  they  live ;  and  more  par- 
ticularly on  the  determinate  physical  circle  which  the  Nile  and 
the  Sun  mark  out.  These  two  are  strictly  connected — the  posi- 
tion of  the  Sun  and  that  of  the  Nile ;  and  to  the  Egyptian  this 
is  all  in  all.  The  Nile  is  that  which  essentially  determines  the 
boundaries  of  the  country;  beyond  the  Nile-valley  begins  the 
desert;  on  the  north,  Egypt  is  shut  in  by  the  sea,  and  on  the 
south  by  torrid  heat.  The  first  Arab  leader  that  conquered 
Egypt,  writes  to  the  Caliph  Omar :  "  Egypt  is  first  a  vast  sea 
of  dust ;  then  a  sea  of  fresh  water ;  lastly,  it  is  a  great  sea  of 
flowers.  It  never  rains  there;  towards  the  end  of  July  dew 
falls,  and  then  the  Nile  begins  to  overflow  its  banks,  and  Egypt 
resembles  a  sea  of  islands."  (Herodotus  compares  Egypt,  dur- 
ing this  period,  with  the  islands  in  the  .^Egean.)  The  Nile 
leaves  behind  it  prodigious  multitudes  of  living  creatures :  then 
appear  moving  and  creeping  things  innumerable;  soon  after, 
man  begins  to  sow  the  ground,  and  the  harvest  is  very  abun- 
dant. Thus  the  existence  of  the  Egyptian  does  not  depend 
on  the  brightness  of  the  sun,  or  the  quantity  of  rain.  For  him, 
on  the  contrary,  there  exist  only  those  perfectly  simple  condi- 
tions, which  form  the  basis  of  his  mode  of  life  and  its  occupa- 
tions. There  is  a  definite  physical  cycle,  which  the  Nile  pur- 
sues, and  which  is  connected  with  the  course  of  the  Sun ;  the 


208  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

latter  advances,  reaches  its  culmination,  and  then  retrogrades. 
So  also  does  the  Nile. 

This  basis  of  the  life  of  the  Egyptians  determines  more- 
over the  particular  tenor  of  their  religious  views.  A  con- 
troversy has  long  been  waged  respecting  the  sense  of  mean- 
ing of  the  Egyptian  religion.  As  early  as  the  reign  of  Tiberius, 
the  Stoic  Chaeremon,  who  had  been  in  Egypt,  explains  it  in 
a  purely  materialistic  sense.  The  New  Platonists  take  a  di- 
rectly opposite  view,  regarding  all  as  symbols  of  a  spiritual 
meaning,  and  thus  making  this  religion  a  pure  Idealism.  Each 
of  these  representations  is  one-sided.  Natural  and  spiritual 
powers  are  regarded  as  most  intimately  united — (the  free  spir- 
itual import,  however,  has  not  been  developed  at  this  stage 
of  thought) — but  in  such  a  way,  that  the  extremes  of  the 
antithesis  were  united  in  the  harshest  contrast.  We  have 
spoken  of  the  Nile,  of  the  Sun,  and  of  the  vegetation  depending 
upon  them.  This  limited  view  of  Nature  gives  the  principle 
of  the  religion,  and  its  subject-matter  is  primarily  a  history. 
The  Nile  and  the  Sun  constitute  the  divinities,  conceived  under 
human  forms ;  and  the  course  of  nature  and  the  mythological 
history  is  the  same.  In  the  winter  solstice  the  power  of  the 
sun  has  reached  its  minimum,  and  must  be  born  anew.  Thus 
also  Osiris  appears  as  born;  but  he  is  killed  by  Typhon — his 
brother  and  enemy — the  burning  wind  of  the  desert.  Isis,  the 
Earth — from  whom  the  aid  of  the  Sun  and  of  the  Nile  has  been 
withdrawn — yearns  after  him :  she  gathers  the  scattered  bones 
of  Osiris,  and  raises  her  lamentation  for  him,  and  all  Egypt 
bewails  with  her  the  death  of  Osiris,  in  a  song  which  Herodotus 
calls  Maneros.  Maneros  he  reports  to  have  been  the  only  son 
of  the  first  king  of  the  Egyptians,  and  to  have  died  prematurely ; 
this  song  being  also  the  Linus-Song  of  the  Greeks,  and  the 
only  song  which  the  Egyptians  have.  Here  again  pain  is  re- 
garded as  something  divine,  and  the  same  honor  is  assigned 
to  it  here  as  among  the  Phoenicians.  Hermes  then  embalms 
Osiris ;  and  his  grave  is  shown  in  various  places.  Osiris  is  now 
judge  of  the  dead,  and  lord  of  the  kingdom  of  the  Shades. 
These  are  the  leading  ideas.  Osiris,  the  Sun,  the  Nile;  this 
triplicity  of  being  is  united  in  one  knot.  The  Sun  is  the  symbol, 
in  which  Osiris  and  the  history  of  that  god  are  recognized,  and 
the  Nile  is  likewise  such  a  symbol.  The  concrete  Egyptian 
imagination  also  ascribes  to  Osiris  and  Isis  the  introduction] 


THE   ORIENTAL   WORLD  209 

of  agriculture,  the  invention  of  the  plough,  the  hoe,  etc. ;  for 
Osiris  gives  not  only  the  useful  itself — the  fertility  of  the  earth 
— but,  moreover,  the  means  of  making  use  of  it.  He  also  gives 
men  laws,  a  civil  order  and  a  religious  ritual ;  he  thus  places 
in  men's  hands  the  means  of  labor,  and  secures  its  result.  Osiris 
is  also  the  symbol  of  the  seed  which  is  placed  in  the  earth,  and 
then  springs  up — as  also  of  the  course  of  life.  Thus  we  find 
this  heterogeneous  duality — the  phenomena  of  Nature  and  the 
Spiritual — woven  together  into  one  knot. 

The  parallelism  of  the  course  of  human  life  with  the  Nile, 
the  Sun  and  Osiris,  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  mere  allegory — 
as  if  the  principle  of  birth,  of  increase  in  strength,  of  the  cul- 
mination of  vigor  and  fertility,  of  decline  and  weakness,  ex- 
hibited itself  in  these  different  phenomena,  in  an  equal  or  sim- 
ilar way;  but  in  this  variety  imagination  conceived  only  one 
subject,  one  vitality.  This  unity  is,  however,  quite  abstract: 
the  heterogeneous  element  shows  itself  therein  as  pressing  and 
urging,  and  in  a  confusion  which  sharply  contrasts  with  Greek 
perspicuity.  Osiris  represents  the  Nile  and  the  Sun :  Sun  and 
Nile  are,  on  the  other  hand,  symbols  of  human  life — each  one 
is  signification  and  symbol  at  the  same  time;  the  symbol  is 
changed  into  signification,  and  this  latter  becomes  symbol  of 
that  symbol,  which  itself  then  becomes  signification.  None 
of  these  phases  of  existence  is  a  Type  without  being  at  the  same 
time  a  Signification ;  each  is  both ;  the  one  is  explained  by  the 
other.  Thus  there  arises  one  pregnant  conception,  composed 
of  many  conceptions,  in  which  each  fundamental  nodus  retains 
its  individuality,  so  that  they  are  not  resolved  into  a  general 
idea.  The  general  idea — the  thought  itself,  which  forms  the 
bond  of  analogy — does  not  present  itself  to  the  consciousness 
purely  and  freely  as  such,  but  remains  concealed  as  an  internal 
connection.  We  have  a  consolidated  individuality,  combining 
various  phenomenal  aspects;  and  which  on  the  one  hand  is 
fanciful,  on  account  of  the  combination  of  apparently  disparate 
material,  but  on  the  other  hand  internally  and  essentially  con- 
nected, because  these  various  appearances  are  a  particular  pro- 
saic matter  of  fact. 

Besides  this  fundamental  conception,  we  observe  several  spe- 
cial divinities,  of  whom  Herodotus  reckons  three  classes.  Of 
the  first  he  mentions  eight  gods ;  of  the  second  twelve ;  of  the 
third  an  indefinite  number,  who  occupy  the  position  towards 


210  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

the  unity  of  Osiris  of  specific  manifestations.  In  the  first  class, 
Fire  and  its  use  appears  as  Phtha,  also  as  Knef,  who  is  besides 
represented  as  the  Good  Genius;  but  the  Nile  itself  is  held 
to  be  that  Genius,  and  thus  abstractions  are  changed  into  con- 
crete conceptions.  Ammon  is  regarded  as  a  great  divinity,  with 
whom  is  associated  the  determination  of  the  equinox :  it  is  he, 
moreover,  who  gives  oracles.  But  Osiris  is  similarly  repre- 
sented as  the  founder  of  oracular  manifestations.  So  the  Pro- 
creative  Power,  banished  by  Osiris,  is  represented  as  a  particu- 
lar divinity.  But  Osiris  is  himself  this  Procreative  Power. 
Isis  is  the  Earth,  the  Moon,  the  receptive  fertility  of  Nature. 
As  an  important  element  in  the  conception  Osiris,  Anubis 
(Thoth) — the  Egyptian  Hermes — must  be  specially  noticed. 
In  human  activity  and  invention,  and  in  the  economy  of  legis- 
lation, the  Spiritual,  as  such,  is  embodied ;  and  becomes  in  this 
form — which  is  itself  determinate  and  limited — an  object  of 
consciousness.  Here  we  have  the  Spiritual,  not  as  one  infinite, 
independent  sovereignty  over  nature,  but  as  a  particular  ex- 
istence, side  by  side  with  the  powers  of  Nature — characterized 
also  by  intrinsic  particularity.  And  thus  the  Egyptians  had 
also  specific  divinities,  conceived  as  spiritual  activities  and 
forces;  but  partly  intrinsically  limited — partly  [so,  as]  con- 
templated under  natural  symbols. 

The  Egyptian  Hermes  is  celebrated  as  exhibiting  the  spir- 
itual side  of  their  theism.  According  to  Jamblichus,  the  Egyp- 
tian priests  immemorially  prefixed  to  all  their  inventions  the 
name  Hermes :  Eratosthenes,  therefore,  called  his  book,  which 
treated  of  the  entire  science  of  Egypt — "  Hermes."  Anubis 
is  called  the  friend  and  companion  of  Osiris.  To  him  is  as- 
cribed the  invention  of  writing,  and  of  science  generally — of 
grammar,  astronomy,  mensuration,  music,  and  medicine.  It 
was  he  who  first  divided  the  day  into  twelve  hours:  he  was 
moreover  the  first  lawgiver,  the  first  instructor  in  religious  ob- 
servances and  objects,  and  in  gymnastics  and  orchestics;  and 
it  was  he  who  discovered  the  olive.  But,  notwithstanding  all 
these  spiritual  attributes,  this  divinity  is  something  quite  other 
than  the  God  of  Thought.  Only  particular  human  arts  and 
inventions  are  associated  with  him.  Not  only  so;  but  he 
entirely  falls  back  into  involvement  in  existence,  and  is  de- 
graded under  physical  symbols.  He  is  represented  with  a 
dog's  head,  as  an  imbruted  god;    and  besides  this  mask,  a 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  211 

particular  natural  object  is  bound  up  with  the  conception  of 
this  divinity ;  for  he  is  at  the  same  time  Sirius,  the  Dog- Star. 
He  is  thus  as  limited  in  respect  of  what  he  embodies,  as 
sensuous  in  the  positive  existence  ascribed  to  him.  It  may  be 
incidentally  remarked,  that  as  Ideas  and  Nature  are  not  distin- 
guished from  each  other,  in  the  same  way  the  arts  and  appli- 
ances of  human  life  are  not  developed  and  arranged  so  as  to 
form  a  rational  circle  of  aims  and  means.  Thus  medicine — 
deliberation  respecting  corporeal  disease — as  also  the  whole 
range  of  deliberation  and  resolve  with  regard  to  undertakings 
in  life — was  subjected  to  the  most  multifarious  superstition 
in  the  way  of  reliance  on  oracles  and  magic  arts.  Astronomy 
was  also  essentially  Astrology,  and  Medicine  an  affair  of  magic, 
but  more  particularly  of  Astrology.  All  astrological  and  sym- 
pathetic superstition  may  be  traced  to  Egypt. 

Egyptian  Worship  is  chiefly  Zoolatry.  We  have  observed 
the  union  here  presented  between  the  Spiritual  and  the  Natural : 
the  more  advanced  and  elevated  side  of  this  conception  is  the 
fact  that  the  Egyptians,  while  they  observed  the  Spiritual  as 
manifested  in  the  Nile,  the  Sun,  and  the  sowing  of  seed,  took 
the  same  view  of  the  life  of  animals.  To  us  Zoolatry  is  repul- 
sive. We  may  reconcile  ourselves  to  the  adoration  of  the 
material  heaven,  but  the  worship  of  brutes  is  alien  to  us ;  for 
the  abstract  natural  element  seems  to  us  more  generic,  and 
therefore  more  worthy  of  veneration.  Yet  it  is  certain  that 
the  nations  who  worshipped  the  Sun  and  the  Stars  by  no  means 
occupy  a  higher  grade  than  those  who  adore  brutes,  but  con- 
trariwise; for  in  the  brute  world  the  Egyptians  contemplate 
a  hidden  and  incomprehensible  principle.  We  also,  when  we 
contemplate  the  life  and  action  of  brutes,  are  astonished  at  their 
instinct — the  adaptation  of  their  movements  to  the  object  in- 
tended— their  restlessness,  excitability,  and  liveliness ;  for  they 
are  exceedingly  quick  and  discerning  in  pursuing  the  ends  of 
their  existence,  while  they  are  at  the  same  time  silent  and  shut 
up  within  themselves.  We  cannot  make  out  what  it  is  that 
"  possesses  "  these  creatures,  and  cannot  rely  on  them.  A  black 
tom-cat,  with  its  glowing  eyes  and  its  now  gliding,  now  quick 
and  darting  movement,  has  been  deemed  the  presence  of  a 
malignant  being — a  mysterious  reserved  spectre:  the  dog,  the 
canary-bird,  on  the  contrary,  appear  friendly  and  sympathizing. 
The  lower  animals  are  the  truly  Incomprehensible.     A  man 


212  PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 

cannot  by  imagination  or  conception  enter  into  the  nature  of 
a  dog,  whatever  resemblance  he  himself  might  have  to  it;  it 
remains  something  altogether  alien  to  him.  It  is  in  two  depart- 
ments that  the  so-called  Incomprehensible  meets  us — in  living 
Nature  and  in  Spirit.  But  in  very  deed  it  is  only  in  Nature 
that  we  have  to  encounter  the  Incomprehensible ;  for  the  being 
manifest  to  itself  is  the  essence  [supplies  the  very  definition  of], 
Spirit:  Spirit  understands  and  comprehends  Spirit.  The  ob- 
tuse self-consciousness  of  the  Egyptians,  therefore,  to  which 
the  thought  of  human  freedom  is  not  yet  revealed,  worships 
the  soul  as  still  shut  up  within  and  dulled  by  the  physical 
organization,  and  sympathizes  with  brute  life.  We  find  a  ven- 
eration of  mere  vitality  among  other  nations  also:  sometimes 
expressly,  as  among  the  Hindoos  and  all  the  Mongolians ;  some- 
times in  mere  traces,  as  among  the  Jews :  "  Thou  shalt  not  eat 
the  blood  of  animals,  for  in  it  is  the  life  of  the  animal."  The 
Greeks  and  Romans  also  regarded  birds  as  specially  intelli- 
gent, believing  that  what  in  the  human  spirit  was  not  revealed 
— the  Incomprehensible  and  Higher — was  to  be  found  in  them. 
But  among  the  Egyptians  this  worship  of  beasts  was  carried  to 
excess  under  the  forms  of  a  most  stupid  and  non-human  super- 
stition. The  worship  of  brutes  was  among  them  a  matter  of 
particular  and  detailed  arrangement :  each  district  had  a  brute 
deity  of  its  own — a  cat,  an  ibis,  a  crocodile,  etc.  Great  estab- 
lishments were  provided  for  them ;  beautiful  mates  were  as- 
signed them ;  and,  like  human  beings,  they  were  embalmed 
after  death.  The  bulls  were  buried,  but  with  their  horns  pro- 
truding above  their  graves ;  the  bulls  embodying  Apis  had 
splendid  monuments,  and  some  of  the  pyramids  must  be  looked 
upon  as  such.  In  one  of  those  that  have  been  opened,  there 
was  found  in  the  most  central  apartment  a  beautiful  alabaster 
coffin ;  and  on  closer  examination  it  was  found  that  the  bones 
inclosed  were  those  of  the  ox.  This  reverence  for  brutes  was 
often  carried  to  the  most  absurd  excess  of  severity.  If  a  man 
killed  one  designedly,  he  was  punished  with  death ;  but  even 
the  undesigned  killing  of  some  animals  might  entail  death.  It 
is  related,  that  once  when  a  Roman  in  Alexandria  killed  a  cat, 
an  insurrection  ensued,  in  which  the  Egyptians  murdered  the 
aggressor.  They  would  let  human  beings  perish  by  famine, 
rather  than  allow  the  sacred  animals  to  be  killed,  or  the  provi- 
sion made  for  them  trenched  upon.    Still  more  than  mere  vital- 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  213 

ity,  the  universal  vis  vita  of  productive  nature  was  venerated 
in  a  Phallus- worship ;  which  the  Greeks  also  adopted  into  the 
rites  paid  by  them  to  Dionysus.  With  this  worship  the  greatest 
excesses  were  connected. 

The  brute  form  is,  on  the  other  hand,  turned  into  a  symbol : 
it  is  also  partly  degraded  to  a  mere  hieroglyphical  sign.  I  refer 
here  to  the  innumerable  figures  on  the  Egyptian  monuments, 
of  sparrow-hawks  or  falcons,  dung-beetles,  scarabsei,  etc.  It 
is  not  known  what  ideas  such  figures  symbolized,  and  we  can 
scarcely  think  that  a  satisfactory  view  of  this  very  obscure  sub- 
ject is  attainable.  The  dung-beetle  is  said  to  be  the  symbol 
of  generation — of  the  sun  and  its  course ;  the  Ibis,  that  of  the 
Nile's  overflowing;  birds  of  the  hawk  tribe,  of  prophecy — of 
the  year — of  pity.  The  strangeness  of  these  combinations  re- 
sults from  the  circumstance  that  we  have  not,  as  in  our  idea 
of  poetical  invention,  a  general  conception  embodied  in  an  im- 
age; but,  conversely,  we  begin  with  a  concept  in  the  sphere 
of  sense,  and  imagination  conducts  us  into  the  same  sphere 
again.  But  we  observe  the  conception  liberating  itself  from 
the  direct  animal  form,  and  the  continued  contemplation  of  it; 
and  that  which  was  only  surmised  and  aimed  at  in  that  form, 
advancing  to  comprehensibility  and  conceivableness.  The  hid- 
den meaning — the  Spiritual — emerges  as  a  human  face  from 
the  brute.  The  multiform  sphinxes,  with  lions'  bodies  and 
virgins'  heads — or  as  male  sphinxes  (avBpocfayyes)  with 
beards — are  evidence  supporting  the  view,  that  the  meaning 
of  the  Spiritual  is  the  problem  which  the  Egyptians  proposed 
to  themselves;  as  the  enigma  generally  is  not  the  utterance 
of  something  unknown,  but  is  the  challenge  to  discover  it — ■ 
implying  a  wish  to  be  revealed.  But  conversely,  the  human 
form  is  also  disfigured  by  a  brute  face,  with  the  view  of  giving 
it  a  specific  and  definite  expression.  The  refined  art  of  Greece 
is  able  to  attain  a  specific  expression  through  the  spiritual  char- 
acter given  to  an  image  in  the  form  of  beauty,  and  does  not  need 
to  deform  the  human  face  in  order  to  be  understood.  The 
Egyptians  appended  an  explanation  to  the  human  forms,  even 
of  the  gods,  by  means  of  heads  and  masks  of  brutes ;  Anubis 
e.g.  has  a  dog's  head,  Isis,  a  lion's  head  with  bull's  horns,  etc. 
The  priests,  also,  in  performing  their  functions,  are  masked 
as  falcons,  jackals,  bulls,  etc.;  in  the  same  way  the  surgeon, 
who  has  taken  out  the  bowels  of  the  dead  (represented  as  flee- 


214  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

ing,  for  he  has  laid  sacrilegious  hands  on  an  object  once  hal- 
lowed by  life)  ;  so  also  the  embalmers  and  the  scribes.  The 
sparrow-hawk,  with  a  human  head  and  outspread  wings,  de- 
notes the  soul  flying  through  material  space,  in  order  to  animate 
a  new  body.  The  Egyptian  imagination  also  created  new  forms 
— combinations  of  different  animals:  serpents  with  bulls'  and 
rams'  heads,  bodies  of  lions  with  rams'  heads,  etc. 

We  thus  see  Egypt  intellectually  confined  by  a  narrow, 
involved,  close  view  of  Nature,  but  breaking  through  this ;  im- 
pelling it  to  self-contradiction,  and  proposing  to  itself  the  prob- 
lem which  that  contradiction  implies.  The  [Egyptian]  prin- 
ciple does  not  remain  satisfied  with  its  primary  conditions,  but 
points  to  that  other  meaning  and  spirit  which  lies  concealed 
beneath  the  surface. 

In  the  view  just  given,  we  saw  the  Egyptian  Spirit  working 
itself  free  from  natural  forms.  This  urging,  powerful  Spirit, 
however,  was  not  able  to  rest  in  the  subjective  conception  of 
that  view  of  things  which  we  have  now  been  considering,  but 
was  impelled  to  present  it  to  external  consciousness  and  out- 
ward vision  by  means  of  Art. — For  the  religion  of  the  Eternal 
One — the  Formless — Art  is  not  only  unsatisfying,  but — since 
its  object  essentially  and  exclusively  occupies  the  thought — 
something  sinful.  But  Spirit,  occupied  with  the  contemplation 
of  particular  natural  forms — being  at  the  same  time  a  striving 
and  plastic  Spirit — changes  the  direct,  natural  view,  e.g.,  of 
the  Nile,  the  Sun,  etc.,  to  images,  in  which  Spirit  has  a  share. 
It  is,  as  we  have  seen,  symbolizing  Spirit ;  and  as  such,  it  en- 
deavors to  master  these  symbolizations,  and  to  present  them 
clearly  before  the  mind.  The  more  enigmatical  and  obscure  I 
it  is  to  itself,  so  much  the  more  does  it  feel  the  impulse  to  labor 
to  deliver  itself  from  its  imprisonment,  and  to  gain  a  clear  ob- 
jective view  of  itself. 

It  is  the  distinguishing  feature  of  the  Egyptian  Spirit,  that 
it  stands  before  us  as  this  mighty  taskmaster.  It  is  not  splen- 
dor, amusement,  pleasure,  or  the  like  that  it  seeks.  The  force 
which  urges  it  is  the  impulse  of  self-comprehension;  and  it 
has  no  other  material  or  ground  to  work  on,  in  order  to  teach 
itself  what  it  is — to  realize  itself  for  itself — than  this  working 
out  its  thoughts  in  stone;  and  what  it  engraves  on  the  stone 
are  its  enigmas — these  hieroglyphs.  They  are  of  two  kinds — 
hieroglyphs  proper,  designed  rather  to  express  language,  and 


THE   ORIENTAL   WORLD  215 

having  reference  to  subjective  conception ;  and  a  class  of  hiero- 
glyphs of  a  different  kind,  viz.  those  enormous  masses  of  archi- 
tecture and  sculpture,  with  which  Egypt  is  covered.  While 
among  other  nations  history  consists  of  a  series  of  events — as, 
e.g.,  that  of  the  Romans,  who  century  after  century,  lived  only 
with  a  view  to  conquest,  and  accomplished  the  subjugation  of 
the  world — the  Egyptians  raised  an  empire  equally  mighty — 
of  achievements  in  works  of  art,  whose  ruins  prove  their  inde- 
structibility, and  which  are  greater  and  more  worthy  of  as- 
tonishment than  all  other  works  of  ancient  or  modern  time. 

Of  these  works  I  will  mention  no  others  than  those  devoted 
to  the  dead,  and  which  especially  attract  our  attention.  These 
are  the  enormous  excavations  in  the  hills  along  the  Nile  at 
Thebes,  whose  passages  and  chambers  are  entirely  filled  with 
mummies — subterranean  abodes  as  large  as  the  largest  mining 
works  of  our  time :  next,  the  great  field  of  the  dead  in  the  plain 
of  Sais,  with  its  walls  and  vaults:  thirdly,  those  Wonders  of 
the  World,  the  Pyramids,  whose  destination,  though  stated 
long  ago  by  Herodotus  and  Diodorus,  has  been  only  recently 
expressly  confirmed — to  the  effect,  viz.,  that  these  prodigious 
crystals,  with  their  geometrical  regularity,  contain  dead  bodies : 
and  lastly,  that  most  astonishing  work,  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings, 
of  which  one  has  been  opened  by  Belzpni  in  modern  times. 

It  is  of  essential  moment  to  observe,  what  importance  this 
realm  of  the  dead  had  for  the  Egyptian :  we  may  thence  gather 
what  idea  he  had  of  man.  For  in  the  Dead,  man  conceives  of 
man  as  stripped  of  all  adventitious  wrappages — as  reduced  to 
his  essential  nature.  But  that  which  a  people  regards  as  man 
in  his  essential  characteristics,  that  it  is  itself — such  is  its 
character. 

In  the  first  place,  we  must  here  cite  the  remarkable  fact  which 
Herodotus  tells  us,  viz.,  that  the  Egyptians  were  the  first  to 
express  the  thought  that  the  soul  of  man  is  immortal.  But  this 
proposition  that  the  soul  is  immortal  is  intended  to  mean  that 
it  is  something  other  than  Nature — that  Spirit  is  inherently 
independent.  The  ne  plus  ultra  of  blessedness  among  the  Hin- 
doos, was  the  passing  over  into  abstract  unity — into  Nothing- 
ness. On  the  other  hand,  subjectivity,  when  free,  is  inherently 
infinite :  the  Kingdom  of  free  Spirit  is  therefore  the  Kingdom 
of  the  Invisible — such  as  Hades  was  conceived  by  the  Greeks. 
This  presents  itself  to  men  first  as  the  empire  of  death — to  the 
Egyptians  as  the  Realm  of  the  Dead. 


2i6  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

The  idea  that  Spirit  is  immortal,  involves  this — that  the 
human  individual  inherently  possesses  infinite  value.  The 
merely  Natural  appears  limited — absolutely  dependent  upon 
something  other  than  itself — and  has  its  existence  in  that  other; 
but  Immortality  involves  the  inherent  infinitude  of  Spirit.  This 
idea  is  first  found  among  the  Egyptians.  But  it  must  be  added, 
that  the  soul  was  known  to  the  Egyptians  previously  only  as 
an  atom — that  is,  as  something  concrete  and  particular.  For 
with  that  view  is  immediately  connected  the  notion  of  Metem- 
psychosis— the  idea  that  the  soul  of  man  may  also  become  the 
tenant  of  the  body  of  a  brute.  Aristotle  too  speaks  of  this  idea, 
and  despatches  it  in  few  words.  Every  subject,  he  says,  has 
its  particular  organs,  for  its  peculiar  mode  of  action:  so  the 
smith,  the  carpenter,  each  for  his  own  craft.  In  like  manner 
the  human  soul  has  its  peculiar  organs,  and  the  body  of  a  brute 
cannot  be  its  domicile.  Pythagoras  adopted  the  doctrine  of 
Metempsychosis;  but  it  could  not  find  much  support  among 
the  Greeks,  who  held  rather  to  the  concrete.  The  Hindoos 
have  also  an  indistinct  conception  of  this  doctrine,  inasmuch 
as  with  them  the  final  attainment  is  absorption  in  the  universal 
Substance.  But  with  the  Egyptians  the  Soul — the  Spirit — is, 
at  any  rate,  an  affirmative  being,  although  only  abstractedly  af- 
firmative. The  period  occupied  by  the  soul's  migrations  was 
fixed  at  three  thousand  years;  they  affirmed,  however,  that 
a  soul  which  had  remained  faithful  to  Osiris,  was  not  subject 
to  such  a  degradation — for  such  they  deem  it. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  Egyptians  embalmed  their  dead; 
and  thus  imparted  such  a  degree  of  permanence,  that  they  have 
been  preserved  even  to  the  present  day,  and  may  continue  as 
they  are  for  many  centuries  to  come.  This  indeed  seems  incon- 
sistent with  their  idea  of  immortality;  for  if  the  soul  has  an 
independent  existence,  the  permanence  of  the  body  seems  a 
matter  of  indifference.  But  on  the  other  hand  it  may  be  said, 
that  if  the  soul  is  recognized  as  a  permanent  existence,  honor 
should  be  shown  to  the  body,  as  its  former  abode.  The  Parsees 
lay  the  bodies  of  the  dead  in  exposed  places  to  be  devoured  by 
birds ;  but  among  them  the  soul  is  regarded  as  passing  forth 
into  universal  existence.  Where  the  soul  is  supposed  to  enjoy 
continued  existence,  the  body  must  also  be  considered  to  hav? 
some  kind  of  connection  with  this  continuance.  Among  us, 
indeed,  the  doctrine  of  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul  assumes 


THE   ORIENTAL   WORLD  217 

the  higher  form :  Spirit  is  in  and  for  itself  eternal ;  its  destiny 
is  eternal  blessedness. — The  Egyptians  made  their  dead  into 
mummies ;  and  did  not  occupy  themselves  further  with  them ; 
no  honor  was  paid  them  beyond  this.  Herodotus  relates  of  the 
Egyptians,  that  when  any  person  died,  the  women  went  about 
loudly  lamenting ;  but  the  idea  of  Immortality  is  not  regarded 
in  the  light  of  a  consolation,  as  among  us. 

From  what  was  said  above,  respecting  the  works  for  the 
Dead,  it  is  evident  that  the  Egyptians,  and  especially  their 
kings,  made  it  the  business  of  their  life  to  build  their  sepulchre, 
and  to  give  their  bodies  a  permanent  abode.  It  is  remarkable 
that  what  had  been  needed  for  the  business  of  life,  was  buried 
with  the  dead.  Thus  the  craftsman  had  his  tools :  designs  on 
the  coffin  show  the  occupation  to  which  the  deceased  had  de- 
voted himself;  so  that  we  are  able  to  become  acquainted  with 
him  in  all  the  minutiae  of  his  condition  and  employment.  Many 
mummies  have  been  found  with  "a  roll  of  papyrus  under  their 
arm,  and  this  was  formerly  regarded  as  a  remarkable  treasure. 
But  these  rolls  contain  only  various  representations  of  the  pur- 
suits of  life — together  with  writings  in  the  Demotic  character. 
They  have  been  deciphered,  and  the  discovery  has  been  made, 
that  they  are  all  deeds  of  purchase,  relating  to  pieces  of  ground 
and  the  like ;  in  which  everything  is  most  minutely  recorded — 
even  the  duties  that  had  to  be  paid  to  the  royal  chancery  on  the 
occasion.  What,  therefore,  a  person  bought  during  his  life,  is 
made  to  accompany  him — in  the  shape  of  a  legal  document — 
in  death.  In  this  monumental  way  we  are  made  acquainted 
with  the  private  life  of  the  Egyptians,  as  with  that  of  the 
Romans  through  the  ruins  of  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum. 

After  the  death  of  an  Egyptian,  judgment  was  passed  upon 
him. — One  of  the  principal  representations  on  the  sarcophagi 
is  this  judicial  process  in  the  realm  of  the  dead.  Osiris — with 
Isis  behind  him — appears,  holding  a  balance,  while  before  him 
stands  the  soul  of  the  deceased.  But  judgment  was  passed  on 
the  dead  by  the  living  themselves ;  and  that  not  merely  in  the 
case  of  private  persons,  but  even  of  kings.  The  tomb  of  a 
certain  king  has  been  discovered — very  large,  and  elaborate  in 
its  architecture — in  whose  hieroglyphs  the  name  of  the  principal 
person  is  obliterated,  while  in  the  bas-reliefs  and  pictorial  de- 
signs the  chief  figure  is  erased.  This  has  been  explained  to 
import  that  the  honor  of  being  thus  immortalized,  was  refused 
this  king  by  the  sentence  of  the  Court  of  the  Dead. 


2i8  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

If  Death  thus  haunted  the  minds  of  the  Egyptians  during 
life,  it  might  be  supposed  that  their  disposition  was  melancholy. 
But  the  thought  of  death  by  no  means  occasioned  depression. 
At  banquets  they  had  representations  of  the  dead  (as  Herodo- 
tus relates),  with  the  admonition:  "Eat  and  drink — such  a 
one  wilt  thou  become,  when  thou  art  dead."  Death  was  thus 
to  them  rather  a  call  to  enjoy  Life.  Osiris  himself  dies,  and 
goes  down  into  the  realm  of  death,  according  to  the  above-men- 
tioned Egyptian  myth.  In  many  places  in  Egypt,  the  sacred 
grave  of  Osiris  was  exhibited.  But  he  was  also  represented  as 
president  of  the  Kingdom  of  the  Invisible  Sphere,  and  as  judge 
of  the  dead  in  it;  later  on,  Serapis  exercised  this  function  in 
his  place.  Of  Anubis-Hermes  the  myth  says,  that  he  embalmed 
the  body  of  Osiris:  this  Anubis  sustained  also  the  office  of 
leader  of  the  souls  of  the  dead ;  and  in  the  pictorial  represen- 
tations he  stands,  with  a  writing  tablet  in  his  hand,  by  the  side 
of  Osiris.  The  reception  of  the  dead  into  the  Kingdom  of 
Osiris  had  also  a  profounder  import,  viz.,  that  the  individual 
was  united  with  Osiris.  On  the  lids  of  the  sarcophagi,  there- 
fore, the  defunct  is  represented  as  having  himself  become 
Osiris;  and  in  deciphering  the  hieroglyphs,  the  idea  has 
been  suggested  that  the  kings  are  called  gods.  The  human  and 
the  divine  are  thus  exhibited  as  united. 

If,  in  conclusion,  we  combine  what  has  been  said  here  of  the 
peculiarities  of  the  Egyptian  Spirit  in  all  its  aspects,  its  per- 
vading principle  is  found  to  be,  that  the  two  elements  of  reality 
— Spirit  sunk  in  Nature,  and  the  impulse  to  liberate  it — are 
here  held  together  inharmoniously  as  contending  elements.  We 
behold  the  antithesis  of  Nature  and  Spirit — not  the  primary 
Immediate  Unity  [as  in  the  less  advanced  nations],  nor  the 
Concrete  Unity,  where  Nature  is  posited  only  as  a  basis  for 
the  manifestation  of  Spirit  [as  in  the  more  advanced]  ;  in  con- 
trast with  the  first  and  second  of  these  Unities,  the  Egyptian 
Unity — combining  contradictory  elements — occupies  a  middle 
place.  The  two  sides  of  this  unity  are  held  in  abstract  inde- 
pendence of  each  other,  and  their  veritable  union  presented 
only  as  a  problem.  We  have,  therefore,  on  the  one  side,  pro- 
digious confusion  and  limitation  to  the  particular;  barbarous 
sensuality  with  African  hardness,  Zoolatry,  and  sensual  enjoy- 
ment. It  is  stated  that,  in  a  public  market-place,  sodomy  was 
committed  by  a  woman  with  a  goat.    Juvenal  relates  that  hu- 


THE   ORIENTAL   WORLD 


219 


man  flesh  was  eaten  and  human  blood  drunk  out  of  revenge. 
The  other  side  is  the  struggle  of  Spirit  for  liberation — fancy 
displayed  in  the  forms  created  by  art,  together  with  the  ab- 
stract understanding  shown  in  the  mechanical  labors  connected 
with  their  production.  The  same  intelligence — the  power  of 
altering  the  form  of  individual  existences,  and  that  steadfast 
thoughtfulness  which  can  rise  above  mere  phenomena — shows 
itself  in  their  police  and  the  mechanism  of  the  State,  in  agri- 
cultural economy,  etc. ;  and  the  contrast  to  this  is  the  severity 
with  which  their  customs  bind  them,  and  the  superstition  to 
which  humanity  among  them  is  inexorably  subject.  With  a 
clear  understanding  of  the  present,  is  connected  the  highest 
degree  of  impulsiveness,  daring  and  turbulence.  These  feat- 
ures are  combined  in  the  stories  which  Herodotus  relates  to 
us  of  the  Egyptians.  They  much  resemble  the  tales  of  the 
Thousand  and  One  Nights;  and  although  these  have  Bagdad 
as  the  locality  of  their  narration,  their  origin  is  no  more  limited 
to  this  luxurious  court,  than  to  the  Arabian  people,  but  must 
be  partly  traced  to  Egypt — as  Von  Hammer  also  thinks.  The 
Arabian  world  is  quite  other  than  the  fanciful  and  enchanted 
region  there  described ;  it  has  much  more  simple  passions  and 
interests.  Love,  Martial  Daring,  the  Horse,  the  Sword,  are  the 
darling  subjects  of  the  poetry  peculiar  to  the  Arabians. 

Transition  to  the  Greek  World 

The  Egyptian  Spirit  has  shown  itself  to  us  as  in  all  respects 
shut  up  within  the  limits  of  particular  conceptions,  and,  as  it 
were,  imbruted  in  them;  but  likewise  stirring  itself  withir 
these  limits — passing  restlessly  from  one  particular  form  int 
another.  This  Spirit  never  rises  to  the  Universal  and  Higher, 
for  it  seems  to  be  blind  to  that ;  nor  does  it  ever  withdraw  into 
itself:  yet  it  symbolizes  freely  and  boldly  with  particular  ex- 
istence, and  has  already  mastered  it.  All  that  is  now  required 
is  to  posit  that  particular  existence — which  contains  the  germ 
of  ideality — as  ideal,  and  to  comprehend  Universality  itself, 
which  is  already  potentially  liberated  from  the  particulars  in- 
volving it.*  It  is  the  free,  joyful  Spirit  of  Greece  that  accom- 
plishes this,  arM  makes  this  its  starting-point.     An  Egyptian 

*  Abstractions  were  to  take  the  place  but  just  fall  short  of  the  ability  to  com- 
of  analogies.  The  power  to  connect  par-  prehend  the  general  idea  which  links 
ticular  conceptions  as  analogical,   does       them.— Ed. 


*20  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

priest  is  reported  to  have  said,  that  the  Greeks  remain  eternally 
children.  We  may  say,  on  the  contrary,  that  the  Egyptians  are 
vigorous  boys,  eager  for  self-comprehension,  who  require  noth- 
ing but  clear  understanding  of  themselves  in  an  ideal  form,  in 
order  to  become  Young  Men.  In  the  Oriental  Spirit  there  re- 
mains as  a  basis  the  massive  substantiality  of  Spirit  immersed 
in  Nature.  To  the  Egyptian  Spirit  it  has  become  impossible — 
though  it  is  still  involved  in  infinite  embarrassment — to  remain 
contented  with  that.  The  rugged  African  nature  disintegrated 
that  primitive  Unity,  and  lighted  upon  the  problem  whose  solu- 
tion is  Free  Spirit. 

That  the  Spirit  of  the  Egyptians  presented  itself  to  their  con- 
sciousness in  the  form  of  a  problem,  is  evident  from  the  cele- 
brated inscription  in  the  sanctuary  of  the  Goddess  Neith  at 
Sais :  "  /  am  that  which  is,  that  which  ivas,  and  that  which 
will  be;  no  one  has  lifted  my  veil."  This  inscription  indicates 
the  principle  of  the  Egyptian  Spirit;  though  the  opinion  has 
often  been  entertained,  that  its  purport  applies  to  all  times. 
Proclus  supplies  the  addition :  "  The  fruit  which  I  have  pro- 
duced is  Helios."  That  which  is  clear  to  itself  is,  therefore, 
the  result  of,  and  the  solution  of,  the  problem  in  question.  This 
lucidity  is  Spirit — the  Son  of  Neith  the  concealed  night-loving 
divinity.  In  the  Egyptian  Neith,  Truth  is  still  a  problem.  The 
Greek  Apollo  is  its  solution ;  his  utterance  is :  "  Man,  know 
thyself."  In  this  dictum  is  not  intended  a  self-recognition  that 
regards  the  specialities  of  one's  own  weaknesses  and  defects: 
it  is  not  the  individual  that  is  admonished  to  become  acquainted 
with  his  idiosyncrasy,  but  humanity  in  general  is  summoned  to 
self-knowledge.  This  mandate  was  given  for  the  Greeks,  and 
in  the  Greek  Spirit  humanity  exhibits  itself  in  its  clear  and 
developed  condition.  Wonderfully,  then,  must  the  Greek  legend 
surprise  us,  which  relates,  that  the  Sphinx — the  great  Egyptian 
symbol — appeared  in  Thebes,  uttering  the  words :  "  What  is 
that  which  in  the  morning  goes  on  four  legs,  at  midday  on 
two,  and  in  the  evening  on  three  ?  "  CEdipus,  giving  the  solu- 
tion, Man,  precipitated  the  Sphinx  from  the  rock.  The  solution 
and  liberation  of  that  Oriental  Spirit,  which  in  Egypt  had  ad- 
anced  so  far  as  to  propose  the  problem,  is  certainly  this:  that 
the  Inner  Being  [the  Essence]  of  Nature  is  Thought,  which 
has  its  existence  only  in  the  human  consciousness.  But  that 
time'honored  antique  solution  given  by  CEdipus — who  thus 


THE  ORIENTAL  WORLD  22i 

shows  himself  possessed  of  knowledge — is  connected  with  a 
dire  ignorance  of  the  character  of  his  own  actions.  The  rise 
of  spiritual  illumination  in  the  old  royal  house  is  disparaged 
by  connection  with  abominations,  the  result  of  ignorance ;  and 
that  primeval  royalty  must — in  order  to  attain  true  knowledge 
and  moral  clearness — first  be  brought  into  shapely  form,  and 
be  harmonized  with  the  Spirit  of  the  Beautiful,  by  civil  laws 
and  political  freedom. 

The  inward  or  ideal  transition,  from  Egypt  to  Greece  is  as 
just  exhibited.  But  Egypt  became  a  province  of  the  great 
Persian  kingdom,  and  the  historical  transition  takes  place  when 
the  Persian  world  comes  in  contact  with  the  Greek.  Here,  for 
the  first  time,  an  historical  transition  meets  us,  viz.  in  the  fall 
of  an  empire.  China  and  India,  as  already  mentioned,  have 
remained — Persia  has  not.  The  transition  to  Greece  is,  in- 
deed, internal;  but  here  it  shows  itself  also  externally,  as  a 
transmission  of  sovereignty — an  occurrence  which  from  this- 
time  forward  is  ever  and  anon  repeated.  For  the  Greeks  sur- 
render the  sceptre  of  dominion  and  of  civilization  to  the  Ro- 
mans, and  the  Romans  are  subdued  by  the  Germans.  If  we 
examine  this  fact  of  transition  more  closely,  the  question  sug- 
gests itself — for  example,  in  this  first  case  of  the  kind,  viz- 
Persia — why  it  sank,  while  China  and  India  remain.  In  the 
first  place  we  must  here  banish  from  our  minds  the  prejudice 
in  favor  of  duration,  as  if  it  had  any  advantage  as  compared 
with  transience:  the  imperishable  mountains  are  not  superior 
to  the  quickly  dismantled  rose  exhaling  its  life  in  fragrance.  In 
Persia  begins  the  principle  of  Free  Spirit  as  contrasted  with 
imprisonment  in  Nature;  mere  natural  existence,  therefore, 
loses  its  bloom,  and  fades  away.  The  principle  of  separation 
from  Nature  is  found  in  the  Persian  Empire,  which,  therefore, 
occupies  a  higher  grade  than  those  worlds  immersed  in  the 
Natural.  The  necessity  of  advance  has  been  thereby  pro- 
claimed. Spirit  has  disclosed  its  existence,  and  must  com- 
plete its  development.  It  is  only  when  dead  that  the  Chinese 
is  held  in  reverence.  The  Hindoo  kills  himself — becomes  ab- 
sorbed in  Brahm — undergoes  a  living  death  in  the  condition 
of  perfect  unconsciousness — or  is  a  present  god  in  virtue  of 
his  birth.  Here  we  have  no  change ;  no  advance  is  admissible, 
for  progress  is  only  possible  through  the  recognition  of  the 
independence  of  Spirit.     With  the  "  Light "  of  the  Persians 


222  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

begins  a  spiritual  view  of  things,  and  here  Spirit  bids  adieu 
to  Nature.  It  is  here,  then,  that  we  first  find  (as  occasion  called 
us  to  notice  above)  that  the  objective  world  remains  free — 
that  the  nations  are  not  enslaved,  but  are  left  in  possession  of 
their  wealth,  their  political  constitution,  and  their  religion.  And, 
indeed,  this  is  the  side  on  which  Persia  itself  shows  weakness 
as  compared  with  Greece.  For  we  see  that  the  Persians  could 
erect  no  empire  possessing  complete  organization;  that  they 
could  not  "  inform  "  the  conquered  lands  with  their  principle, 
and  were  unable  to  make  them  into  a  harmonious  Whole,  but 
were  obliged  to  be  content  with  an  aggregate  of  the  most  di- 
verse individualities.  Among  these  nations  the  Persians  se- 
cured no  inward  recognition  of  the  legitimacy  of  their  rule; 
they  could  not  establish  their  legal  principles  of  enactments, 
and  in  organizing  their  dominion,  they  only  considered  them- 
selves, not  the  whole  extent  of  their  empire.  Thus,  as  Persia 
did  not  constitute,  politically,  one  Spirit,  it  appeared  weak  in 
contrast  with  Greece.  It  was  not  the  effeminacy  of  the  Per- 
sians (although,  perhaps,  Babylon  infused  an  enervating  ele- 
ment) that  ruined  them,  but  the  unwieldy,  unorganized  char- 
acter of  their  host,  as  matched  against  Greek  organization ;  i.e., 
the  superior  principle  overcame  the  inferior.  The  abstract 
principle  of  the  Persians  displayed  its  defectiveness  as  an  un- 
organized, incompacted  union  of  disparate  contradictories;  in 
which  the  Persian  doctrine  of  Light  stood  side  by  side  with 
Syrian  voluptuousness  and  luxury,  with  the  activity  and  cour- 
age of  the  sea-braving  Phoenicians,  the  abstraction  of  pure 
Thought  in  the  Jewish  Religion,  and  the  mental  unrest  of 
Egypt ; — an  aggregate  of  elements,  which  awaited  their  idealiz- 
ation, and  could  receive  it  only  in  free  Individuality.  The 
Greeks  must  be  looked  upon  as  the  people  in  whom  these  ele- 
ments interpenetrated  each  other:  Spirit  became  introspective, 
triumphed  over  particularity,  and  thereby  emancipated  itself. 


PART  II 


THE  GREEK  WORLD 

AMONG  the  Greeks  we  *eel  ourselves  immediately  at 
home,  for  we  are  in  the  region  of  Spirit ;  and  though 
the  origin  of  the  nation,  as  also  its  philological  pecu- 
liarities, may  be  traced  farther — even  to  India — the  proper 
Emergence,  the  true  Palingenesis  of  Spirit  must  be  looked  for 
in  Greece  first.  At  an  earlier  stage  I  compared  the  Greek 
world  with  the  period  of  adolescence ;  not,  indeed,  in  that  sense, 
that  youth  bears  within  it  a  serious,  anticipative  destiny,  and 
consequently  by  the  very  conditions  of  its  culture  urges  towards 
an  ulterior  aim — presenting  thus  an  inherently  incomplete  and 
immature  form,  and  being  then  most  defective  when  it  would 
deem  itself  perfect — but  in  that  sense,  that  youth  does  not  yet 
present  the  activity  of  work,  does  not  yet  exert  itself  for  a 
definite  intelligent  aim — but  rather  exhibits  a  concrete  fresh- 
ness of  the  soul's  life.  It  appears  in  the  sensuous,  actual  world, 
as  Incarnate  Spirit  and  Spiritualized  Sense — in  a  Unity  which 
owed  its  origin  to  Spirit.  Greece  presents  to  us  the  cheerful 
aspect  of  youthful  freshness,  of  Spiritual  vitality.  It  is  here 
first  that  advancing  Spirit  makes  itself  the  content  of  its  voli- 
tion and  its  knowledge ;  but  in  such  a  way  that  State,  Family, 
Law,  Religion,  are  at  the  same  time  objects  aimed  at  by  indi- 
viduality, while  the  latter  is  individuality  only  in  virtue  of 
those  aims.  The  [full-grown]  man,  on  the  other  hand,  devotes 
his  life  to  labor  for  an  objective  aim;  which  he  pursues  con- 
sistently, even  at  the  cost  of  his  individuality. 

The  highest  form  that  floated  before  Greek  imagination  was 
Achilles,  the  Son  of  the  Poet,  the  Homeric  Youth  of  the  Trojan 
War.  Homer  is  the  element  in  which  the  Greek  world  lives, 
as  man  does  in  the  air.  The  Greek  life  is  a  truly  youthful 
achievement.  Achilles,  the  ideal  youth,  of  poetry,  commenced 
it:  Alexander  the  Great,  the  ideal  youth  of  reality,  concluded 

223 


224  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

it.  Both  appear  in  contest  with  Asia.  Achilles,  as  the  principal 
figure  in  the  national  expedition  of  the  Greeks  against  Troy, 
does  not  stand  at  its  head,  but  is  subject  to  the  Chief  of  Chiefs ; 
he  cannot  be  made  the  leader  without  becoming  a  fantastic  un- 
tenable conception.  On  the  contrary,  the  second  youth,  Alex- 
ander— the  freest  and  finest  individuality  that  the  real  world 
has  ever  produced — advances  to  the  head  of  this  youthful  life 
that  has  now  perfected  itself,  and  accomplishes  the  revenge 
against  Asia. 

We  have,  then,  to  distinguish  three  periods  in  Greek  history : 
the  first,  that  of  the  growth  of  real  Individuality ;  the  second, 
that  of  its  independence  and  prosperity  in  external  conquest 
(through  contact  with  the  previous  World-historical  people)  ; 
and  the  third,  the  period  of  its  decline  and  fall,  in  its  encounter 
with  the  succeeding  organ  of  World-History.  The  period  from 
its  origin  to  its  internal  completeness  (that  which  enables  a 
people  to  make  head  against  its  predecessor)  includes  its  pri- 
mary culture.  If  the  nation  has  a  basis — such  as  the  Greek 
world  has  in  the  Oriental — a  foreign  culture  enters  as  an  ele- 
ment into  its  primary  condition,  and  it  has  a  double  culture, 
one  orignal,  the  other  of  foreign  suggestion.  The  uniting  of 
these  two  elements  constitutes  its  training ;  and  the  first  period 
ends  with  the  combination  of  its  forces  to  produce  its  real  and 
proper  vigor,  which  then  turns  against  the  very  element  that 
had  been  its  basis.  The  second  period  is  that  of  victory  and 
prosperity.  But  while  the  nation  directs  its  energies  outwards, 
it  becomes  unfaithful  to  its  principles  at  home,  and  internal 
dissension  follows  upon  the  ceasing  of  the  external  excitement. 
In  Art  and  Science,  too,  this  shows  itself  in  the  separation  of 
the  Ideal  from  the  Real.  Here  is  the  point  of  decline.  The 
third  period  is  that  of  ruin,  through  contact  with  the  nation 
that  embodies  a  higher  Spirit.  The  same  process,  it  may  be 
stated  once  for  all,  will  meet  us  in  the  life  of  every  world  - 
historical  people. 


SECTION  1 

THE   ELEMENTS   OF   THE   GREEK   SPIRIT 

GREECE  is  [that  form  of]  the  Substantial  [i.e.  of  Moral 
and  Intellectual  Principle],  which  is  a't  the  same  time 
individual.  The  Universal  [the  Abstract],  as  such,  is 
overcome ;  *  the  submersion  in  Nature  no  longer  exists,  and 
consentaneously  the  unwieldy  character  of  geographical  rela- 
tions has  also  vanished.  The  country  now  under  consideration 
is  a  section  of  territory  spreading  itself  in  various  forms 
through  the  sea — a  multitude  of  islands,  and  a  continent  which 
itself  exhibits  insular  features.  The  Peloponnesus  is  connected 
with  the  continent  only  by  a  narrow  isthmus:  the  whole  of 
Greece  is  indented  by  bays  in  numberless  shapes.  The  partition 
into  small  divisions  of  territory  is  the  universal  characteristic, 
while  at  the  same  time,  the  relationship  and  connection  between 
them  is  facilitated  by  the  sea.  We  find  here  mountains,  plains, 
valleys,  and  streams  of  limited  extent :  no  great  river,  no  abso- 
lute Valley-Plain  presents  itself ;  but  the  ground  is  diversified 
by  mountains  and  rivers  in  such  a  way  as  to  allow  no  promi- 
nence to  a  single  massive  feature.  We  see  no  such  display  of 
physical  grandeur  as  is  exhibited  in  the  East — no  stream  such 
as  the  Ganges,  the  Indus,  etc.,  on  whose  plains  a  race  delivered 
over  to  monotony  is  stimulated  to  no  change,  be^.use  its  hori- 
zon always  exhibits  one  unvarying  form.  O  'v  contrary,  that 
divided  and  multiform  character  everywhere  prevails  which 
perfectly  corresponds  with  the  varied  life  of  Greek  races  and 
the  versatility  of  the  Greek  Spirit. 

This  is  the  elementary  character  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Greeks, 
implying  the  origination  of  their  culture  from  independent  in- 
dividualities ; — a  condition  in  which  individuals  take  their  own 
ground,  and  are  not,  from  the  very  beginning,  patriarchally 
united  by  a  bond  of  Nature,  but  realize  a  union  through  some 

*  That  is,  blind  obedience  to  moral  re-       personal    conviction    or    inclination,    as 

quirements— to  principle  abstracted  from        among  the  Chinese. — Ed. 

22S 


226  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

other  medium — through  Law  and  Custom  having  the  sanction 
of  Spirit.  For  beyond  all  other  nations  that  of  Greece  attained 
its  form  by  growth.  At  the  origin  of  their  national  unity,  sepa- 
ration as  a  generic  feature — inherent  distinctness  of  character 
— is  the  chief  point  that  has  to  be  considered.  The  first  phase 
in  the  subjugation  of  this,  constitutes  the  primary  period  of 
Greek  culture ;  and  only  through  such  distinctness  of  character, 
and  such  a  subjugation  of  it,  was  the  beautiful  free  Greek 
Spirit  produced.  Of  this  principle  we  must  have  a  clear  con- 
ception. It  is  a  superficial  and  absurd  idea  that  such  a  beautiful 
and  truly  free  life  can  be  produced  by  a  process  so  incomplex 
as  the  development  of  a  race  keeping  within  the  limits  of  blood- 
relationship  and  friendship.  Even  the  plant,  which  supplies 
the  nearest  analogy  to  such  a  calm,  homogeneous  unfolding, 
lives  and  grows  only  by  means  of  the  antithetic  activities  of 
light,  air,  and  water.  The  only  real  antithesis  that  Spirit  can 
have,  is  itself  spiritual :  viz.,  its  inherent  heterogeneity,  through 
which  alone  it  acquires  the  power  of  realizing  itself  as  Spirit. 
The  history  of  Greece  exhibits  at  its  commencement  this  inter- 
change and  mixture  of  partly  homesprung,  partly  quite  foreign 
stocks ;  and  it  was  Attica  itself — whose  people  was  destined  to 
attain  the  acme  of  Hellenic  bloom — that  was  the  asylum  of  the 
most  various  stocks  and  families.  Every  world-historical  peo- 
ple, except  the  Asiatic  kingdoms — which  stands  detached  from 
the  grand  historical  catena — has  been  formed  in  this  way.  Thus 
the  Greeks,  like  the  Romans,  developed  themselves  from  a 
colluvies — a  conflux  of  the  most  various  nations.  Of  the  multi- 
tude of  tribes  which  we  meet  in  Greece,  we  cannot  say  which 
was  the  original  Greek  people,  and  which  immigrated  from  for- 
eign lands  and  distant  parts  of  the  globe;  for  the  period  of 
which  we  speak  belongs  entirely  to  the  unhistorical  and  obscure. 
The  Pelasgi  were  at  that  time  a  principal  race  in  Greece.  The 
most  various  attempts  have  been  made  by  the  learned  to  har- 
monize the  confused  and  contradictory  account  which  we  have 
respecting  them — a  hazy  and  obscure  period  being  a  special 
object  and  stimulus  to  erudition.  Remarkable  as  the  earliest 
centres  of  incipient  culture  are  Thrace,  the  native  land  of  Or- 
pheus— and  Thessaly ;  countries  which  at  a  later  date  retreated 
more  or  less  into  the  background.  From  Phthiotis,  the  country 
of  Achilles,  proceeds  the  common  name  Hellenes — a  name 
which,  as  Thucydides  remarks,  presents  itself  as  little  in  Homer 


THE   GREEK   WORLD  227 

in  this  comprehensive  sense,  as  the  term  Barbarians,  from 
whom  the  Greeks  were  not  yet  clearly  distinguished.  It  must 
be  left  to  special  history  to  trace  the  several  tribes,  and  their 
transformations.  In  general  we  may  assume,  that  the  tribes 
and  individuals  were  prone  to  leave  their  country  when  too 
great  a  population  occupied  it,  and  that  consequently  these 
tribes  were  in  a  migratory  condition,  and  practised  mutual 
depredation.  "  Even  now,"  says  the  discerning  Thucydides, 
"  the  Ozolian  Locrians,  the  ZEtolians,  and  Acarnanians  retain 
their  ancient  mode  of  life;  the  custom  of  carrying  weapons, 
too,  has  maintained  itself  among  them  as  a  relic  of  their  ancient 
predatory  habits."  Respecting  the  Athenians,  he  says,  that 
they  were  the  first  who  laid  aside  arms  in  time  of  peace.  In 
such  a  state  of  things  agriculture  was  not  pursued ;  the  inhabi- 
tants had  not  only  to  defend  themselves  against  freebooters, 
but  also  to  contend  with  wild  beasts  (even  in  Herodotus's  time 
many  lions  infested  the  banks  of  the  Nestus  and  Achelous)  ; 
at  a  later  time  tame  cattle  became  especially  an  object  of  plun- 
der, and  even  after  agriculture  had  become  more  general,  men 
were  still  entrapped  and  sold  for  slaves.  In  depicting  this  orig- 
inal condition  of  Greece,  Thucydides  goes  still  further  into 
detail. 

Greece,  then,  was  in  this  state  of  turbulence,  insecurity,  and 
rapine,  and  its  tribes  were  continually  migrating. 

The  other  element  in  which  the  national  life  of  the  Hellenes 
was  versed,  was  the  Sea.  The  physique  of  their  country  led 
them  to  this  amphibious  existence,  and  allowed  them  to  skim 
freely  over  the  waves,  as  they  spread  themselves  freely  over 
the  land — not  roving  about  like  the  nomad  populations,  nor 
torpidly  vegetating  like  those  of  the  river  districts.  Piracy, 
not  trade,  was  the  chief  object  of  maritime  occupations :  and, 
as  we  gather  from  Homer,  it  was  not  yet  reckoned  discreditable. 
The  suppression  of  piracy  is  ascribed  to  Minos,  and  Crete  is 
renowned  as  the  land  where  security  was  first  enjoyed;  for 
there  the  state  of  things  which  we  meet  with  again  in  Sparta 
was  early  realized,  viz.,  the  establishment  in  power  of  one 
party,  and  the  subjugation  of  the  other,  which  was  compelled 
to  obey  and  work  for  the  former. 

We  have  just  spoken  of  heterogeneity  as  an  element  of  the 

Greek  Spirit,  and  it  is  well  known  that  the  rudiments  of  Greek 

civilization  are  connected  with  the  advent  of  foreigners.  This 
Vol.  23  K— Classics 


228  PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 

origin  of  their  moral  life  the  Greeks  have  preserved,  with  grate- 
ful recollection,  in  a  form  of  recognition  which  we  may  call 
mythological.  In  their  mythology  we  have  a  definite  record 
of  the  introduction  of  agriculture  by  Triptolemus,  who  was 
instructed  by  Ceres,  and  of  the  institution  of  marriage,  etc. 
Prometheus,  whose  origin  is  referred  to  the  distant  Caucasus, 
is  celebrated  as  having  first  taught  men  the  production  and 
the  use  of  fire.  The  introduction  of  iron  was  likewise  of  great 
importance  to  the  Greeks;  and  while  Homer  speaks  only  of 
bronze,  iEschylus  calls  iron  "  Scythian."  The  introduction  of 
the  olive,  of  the  art  of  spinning  and  weaving,  and  the  creation 
of  the  horse  by  Poseidon,  belong  to  the  same  category. 

More  historical  than  these  rudiments  of  culture  is  the  alleged 
arrival  of  foreigners;  tradition  tells  us  how  the  various  states 
were  founded  by  such  foreigners.  Thus,  Athens  owes  its 
origin  to  Cecrops,  an  Egyptian,  whose  history,  however,  is  in- 
volved in  obscurity.  The  race  of  Deucalion,  the  son  of  Pro- 
metheus, is  brought  into  connection  with  the  various  Greek 
tribes.  Pelops  of  Phrygia,  the  son  of  Tantalus,  is  also  men- 
tioned; next,  Danaus,  from  Egypt:  from  him  descend  Acris- 
ius,  Danse,  and  Perseus.  Pelops  is  said  to  have  brought  great 
wealth  with  him  to  the  Peloponnesus,  and  to  have  acquired 
great  respect  and  power  there.  Danaus  settled  in  Argos. 
Especially  important  is  the  arrival  of  Cadmus,  of  Phoenician 
origin,  with  whom  phonetic  writing  is  said  to  have  been  intro- 
duced into  Greece;  Herodotus  refers  it  to  Phoenicia,  and  an- 
cient inscriptions  then  extant  are  cited  to  support  the  assertion. 
Cadmus,  according  to  the  legend,  founded  Thebes. 

We  thus  observe  a  colonization  by  civilized  peoples,  who 
were  in  advance  of  the  Greeks  in  point  of  culture :  though  we 
cannot  compare  this  colonization  with  that  of  the  English  in 
North  America,  for  the  latter  have  not  been  blended  with  the 
aborigines,  but  have  dispossessed  them ;  whereas  in  the  case 
of  the  settlers  in  Greece  the  adventitious  and  autochthonic  ele- 
ments were  mixed  together.  The  date  assigned  to  the  arrival 
of  these  colonists  is  very  remote — the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth 
century  before  Christ.  Cadmus  is  said  to  have  founded  Thebes 
about  1490  B.C. — a  date  with  which  the  Exodus  of  Moses  from 
Egypt  (1500  B.C.)  nearly  coincides.  Amphictyon  is  also  men- 
tioned among  the  Founders  of  Greek  institutions;  he  is  said 
to  have  established  at  Thermopylae  a  union  between  many  small 


THE   GREEK   WORL© 


229 


tribes  of  Hellas  proper  and  Thessaly — a  combination  with 
which  the  great  Amphictyonic  league  is  said  to  have  originated. 

These  foreigners,  then,  are  reputed  to  have  established  fixed 
centres  in  Greece  by  the  erection  of  fortresses  and  the  founding 
of  royal  houses.  In  Argolis,  the  walls  of  which  the  ancient 
fortresses  consisted,  were  called  Cyclopian ;  some  of  them  have 
been  discovered  even  in  recent  times,  since,  on  account  of  their 
solidity  4  they  are  indestructible. 

These  walls  consist  partly  of  irregular  blocks,  whose  in- 
terstices are  filled  up  with  small  stones — partly  of  masses  of 
stones  carefully  fitted  into  each  other.  Such  walls  are  those 
of  Tiryns  and  Mycenae.  Even  now  the  gate  with  the  lions, 
at  Mycenae,  can  be  recognized  by  the  description  of  Pausanias. 
It  is  stated  of  Prcetus,  who  ruled  in  Argos,  that  he  brought 
with  him  from  Lycia  the  Cyclopes  who  built  these  walls.  It 
is,  however,  supposed  that  they  were  erected  by  the  ancient 
Pelasgi.  To  the  fortresses  protected  by  such  walls  the  princes 
of  the  heroic  times  generally  attached  their  dwellings.  Espe- 
cially remarkable  are  the  Treasure-houses  built  by  them,  such 
as  the  Treasure-house  of  Minyas  at  Orchomenus,  and  that  of 
Atreus  at  Mycense.  These  fortresses,  then,  were  the  nuclei  of 
small  states ;  they  gave  a  greater  security  to  agriculture ;  they 
protected  commercial  intercourse  against  robbery.  They  were, 
however,  as  Thucydides  informs  us,  not  placed  in  the  immedi- 
ate vicinity  of  the  sea,  on  account  of  piracy;  maritime  towns 
being  of  later  date.  Thus  with  those  royal  abodes  originated 
the  firm  establishment  of  society.  The  relation  of  princes  to 
subjects,  and  to  each  other,  we  learn  best  from  Homer.  It  did 
not  depend  on  a  state  of  things  established  by  law,  but  on 
superiority  in  riches,  possessions,  martial  accoutrements,  per- 
sonal bravery,  pre-eminence  in  insight  and  wisdom,  and  lastly, 
on  descent  and  ancestry;  for  the  princes,  as  heroes,  were  re- 
garded as  of  a  higher  race.  Their  subjects  obeyed  them,  not 
as  distinguished  from  them  by  conditions  of  Caste,  nor  as  in 
a  state  of  serfdom,  nor  in  the  patriarchal  relation — according 
to  which  the  chief  is  only  the  head  of  the  tribe  or  family  to 
which  all  belong — nor  yet  as  the  result  of  the  express  necessity 
for  a  constitutional  government ;  but  only  from  the  need,  uni- 
versally felt,  of  being  held  together,  and  of  obeying  a  ruler 
accustomed  to  command — without  envy  and  ill-will  towards 
him.    The  Prince  has  just  so  much  personal  authority  as  he 


83o  PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 

possesses  the  ability  to  acquire  and  to  assert;  but  as  this 
superiority  is  only  the  individually  heroic,  resting  on  personal 
merit,  it  does  not  continue  long.  Thus  in  Homer  we  see  the 
suitors  of  Penelope  taking  possession  of  the  property  of  the 
absent  Ulysses,  without  showing  the  slightest  respect  to  his 
son.  Achilles,  in  his  inquiries  about  his  father,  when  Ulysses 
descends  to  Hades,  indicates  the  supposition  that,  as  he  is  old, 
he  will  be  no  longer  honored.  Manners  are  still  very  simple: 
princes  prepare  their  own  repasts;  and  Ulysses  labors  at  the 
construction  of  his  own  house.  In  Homer's  Iliad  we  find  a 
King  of  Kings,  a  generalissimo  in  the  great  national  undertak- 
ing— but  the  other  magnates  environ  him  as  a  freely  deliberat- 
ing council ;  the  prince  is  honored,  but  he  is  obliged  to  arrange 
everything  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  others ;  he  indulges  in  vio- 
lent conduct  towards  Achilles,  but,  in  revenge,  the  latter  with- 
draws from  the  struggle.  Equally  lax  is  the  relation  of  the 
several  chiefs  to  the  people  at  large,  among  whom  there  are 
always  individuals  who  claim  attention  and  respect.  The  vari- 
ous peoples  do  not  fight  as  mercenaries  of  the  prince  in  his 
battles,  nor  as  a  stupid  serf-like  herd  driven  to  the  contest,  nor 
yet  in  their  own  interest ;  but  as  the  companions  of  their  hon- 
ored chieftain — as  witnesses  of  his  exploits,  and  his  defenders 
in  peril.  A  perfect  resemblance  to  these  relations  is  also  pre- 
sented in  the  Greek  Pantheon.  Zeus  is  the  Father  of  the  Gods, 
but  each  one  of  them  has  his  own  will ;  Zeus  respects  them, 
and  they  him :  he  may  sometimes  scold  and  threaten  them,  and 
they  then  allow  his  will  to  prevail  or  retreat  grumbling;  but 
they  do  not  permit  matters  to  come  to  an  extremity,  and  Zeus 
so  arranges  matters  on  the  whole — by  making  this  concession 
to  one,  that  to  another — as  to  produce  satisfaction.  In  the 
terrestrial,  as  well  as  in  the  Olympian  world,  there  is,  therefore, 
only  a  lax  bond  of  unity  maintained ;  royalty  has  not  yet  become 
monarchy,  for  it  is  only  in  a  more  extensive  society  that  the 
need  of  the  latter  is  felt. 

While  this  state  of  things  prevailed,  and  social  relations  were 
such  as  have  been  described,  that  striking  and  great  event  took 
place — the  union  of  the  whole  of  Greece  in  a  national  under- 
taking, viz.,  the  Trojan  War;  with  which  began  that  more  ex- 
tensive connection  with  Asia  which  had  very  important  results 
for  the  Greeks.  (The  expedition  of  Jason  to  Colchis — also 
mentioned  by  the  poets — and  which  bears  an  earlier  date,  was, 


THE   GREEK   WORLD  »  23 x 

as  compared  with  the  war  of  Troy,  a  very  limited  and  isolated 
undertaking.)  The  occasion  of  that  united  expedition  is  said 
to  have  been  the  violation  of  the  laws  of  hospitality  by  the  son 
of  an  Asiatic  prince,  in  carrying  off  the  wife  of  his  host.  Aga- 
memnon assembles  the  princes  of  Greece  through  the  power 
and  influence  which  he  possesses.  Thucydides  ascribes  his 
authority  to  his  hereditary  sovereignty,  combined  with  naval 
power  (Horn.  II.  ii.  108),  in  which  he  was  far  superior  to 
the  rest.  It  appears,  however,  that  the  combination  was  ef- 
fected without  external  compulsion,  and  that  the  whole  arma- 
ment was  convened  simply  on  the  strength  of  individual  con- 
sent. The  Hellenes  were  then  brought  to  act  unitedly,  to  an 
extent  of  which  there  is  no  subsequent  example.  The  result 
of  their  exertions  was  the  conquest  and  destruction  of  Troy, 
though  they  had  no  design  of  making  it  a  permanent  possession. 
No  external  result,  therefore,  in  the  way  of  settlement  ensued, 
any  more  than  an  enduring  political  union,  as  the  effect  of  the 
uniting  of  the  nation  in  the  accomplishment  of  this  single 
achievement.  But  the  poet  supplied  an  imperishable  portraiture 
of  their  youth  and  of  their  national  spirit,  to  the  imagination  of 
the  Greek  people;  and  the  picture  of  this  beautiful  human 
heroism  hovered  as  a  directing  ideal  before  their  whole  devel- 
opment and  culture.  So  likewise,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  we  see 
the  whole  of  Christendom  united  to  attain  one  object — the 
conquest  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre;  but,  in  spite  of  all  the  vic- 
tories achieved,  with  just  as  little  permanent  result.  The  Cru- 
sades are  the  Trojan  War  of  newly  awakened  Christendom, 
waged  against  the  simple,  homogeneous  clearness  of  Mahome- 
tanism. 

The  royal  houses  perished,  partly  as  the  consequence  of  par- 
ticular atrocities,  partly  through  gradual  extinction.  There 
was  no  strictly  moral  bond  connecting  them  with  the  tribes 
which  they  governed.  The  same  relative  position  is  occupied 
by  the  people  and  the  royal  houses  in  the  Greek  Tragedy  also. 
The  people  is  the  Chorus — passive,  deedless:  the  heroes  per- 
form the  deeds,  and  incur  the  consequent  responsibility.  There 
is  nothing  in  common  between  them;  the  people  have  no  di- 
recting power,  but  only  appeal  to  the  gods.  Such  heroic  per- 
sonalities as  those  of  the  princes  in  question,  are  so  remarkably 
suited  for  subjects  of  dramatic  art  on  this  very  account — that 
they  form  their  resolutions  independently  and  individually,  and 


232  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

are  not  guided  by  universal  laws  binding  on  every  citizen; 
their  conduct  and  their  ruin  are  individual.  The  people  appears 
separated  from  the  royal  houses,  and  these  are  regarded  as  an 
alien  body — a  higher  race,  righting  out  the  battles  and  under- 
going the  penalties  of  their  fate,  for  themselves  alone.  Roy- 
alty having  performed  that  which  it  had  to  perform,  thereby 
rendered  itself  superfluous.  The  several  dynasties  are  the 
agents  of  their  own  destruction,  or  perish  not  as  the  result  of 
animosity,  or  of  struggles  on  the  side  of  the  people:  rather 
the  families  of  the  sovereigns  are  left  in  calm  enjoyment  of 
their  power — a  proof  that  the  democratic  government  which 
followed  is  not  regarded  as  something  absolutely  diverse.  How 
sharply  do  the  annals  of  other  times  contrast  with  this! 

This  fall  of  the  royal  houses  occurs  after  the  Trojan  war,  and 
many  changes  now  present  themselves.     The  Peloponnesus 
was  conquered  by  the  Heraclidas,  who  introduced  a  calmer  state 
of  things,  which  was  not  again  interrupted  by  the  incessant 
migrations  of  races.    The  history  now  becomes  more  obscure ; 
and  though  the  several  occurrences  of  the  Trojan  war  are  very 
circumstantially  described  to  us,  we  are  uncertain  respecting 
the  important  transactions  of  the  time  immediately  following, 
for  a  space  of  many  centuries.    No  united  undertaking  distin- 
guishes them,  unless  we  regard  as  such  that  of  which  Thucydides 
speaks,  viz.,  the  war  between  the  Chalcidians  and  Eretrians  in 
Euboea,  in  which  many  nations  took  part.    The  towns  vegetate 
in  isolation,  or  at  most  distinguish  themselves  by  war  with  their 
neighbors.    Yet,  they  enjoy  prosperity  in  this  isolated  condi- 
tion, by  means  of  trade ;  a  kind  of  progress  to  which  their  being 
rent  by  many  party-struggles  offers  no  opposition.     In  the 
same  way,  we  observe  in  the  Middle  Ages  the  towns  of  Italy— 
which,  both  internally  and  externally,  were  engaged  in  con- 
tinual struggle — attaining  so  high  a  degree  of  prosperity.    The 
flourishing  state  of  the  Greek  towns  at  that  time  is  proved, 
according  to  Thucydides,  also  by  the  colonies  sent  out  in  every 
direction.    Thus,  Athens  colonized  Ionia  and  several  islands ; 
and  colonies  from  the  Peloponnesus  settled  in  Italy  and  Sicily. 
Colonies,  on  the  other  hand,  became  relatively  mother  states ; 
e.g.  Miletus,  which  founded  many  cities  on  the  Propontis  and 
the  Black  Sea.    This  sending  out  of  colonies — especially  during 
the  period  between  the  Trojan  war  and  Cyrus — presents  us  with 
a  remarkable  phenomenon.    It  can  be  thus  explained.    In  the 


THE   GREEK   WORLD 


233 


several  towns  the  people  had  the  governmental  power  in  their 
hands,  since  they  gave  the  final  decision  in  political  affairs.  In 
consequence  of  the  long  repose  enjoyed  by  them,  the  population 
and  the  development  of  the  community  advanced  rapidly ;  and 
the  immediate  result  was  the  amassing  of  great  riches-,  contem- 
poraneously with  which  fact  great  want  and  poverty  make  their 
appearance.  Industry,  in  our  sense,  did  not  exist;  and  the 
lands  were  soon  occupied.  Nevertheless  a  part  of  the  poorer 
classes  would  not  submit  to  the  degradations  of  poverty,  for 
everyone  felt  himself  a  free  citizen.  The  only  expedient,  there- 
fore, that  remained,  was  colonization.  In  another  country, 
those  who  suffered  distress  in  their  own,  might  seek  a  free  soil, 
and  gain  a  living  as  free  citizens  by  its  cultivation.  Colonization 
thus  became  a  means  of  maintaining  some  degree  of  equality 
among  the  citizens ;  but  this  means  is  only  a  palliative,  and  the 
original  inequality,  founded  on  the  difference  of  property,  im- 
mediately reappears.  The  old  passions  were  rekindled  with 
fresh  violence,  and  riches  were  soon  made  use  of  for  securing 
power :  thus  "  Tyrants  "  gained  ascendancy  in  the  cities  of 
Greece.  Thucydides  says,  "  When  Greece  increased  in  riches, 
Tyrants  arose  in  the  cities,  and  the  Greeks  devoted  themselves 
more  zealously  to  the  sea."  At  the  time  of  Cyrus,  the  History 
of  Greece  acquires  its  peculiar  interest ;  we  see  the  various  states 
now  displaying  their  particular  character.  This  is  the  date, 
too,  of  the  formation  of  the  distinct  Greek  Spirit.  Religion  and 
political  institutions  are  developed  with  it,  and  it  is  these  im- 
portant phases  of  national  life  which  must  now  occupy  our 
attention. 

In  tracing  up  the  rudiments  of  Greek  culture,  we  first  recall 
attention  to  the  fact  that  the  physical  condition  of  the  country 
does  not  exhibit  such  a  characteristic  unity,  such  a  uniform 
mass,  as  to  exercise  a  powerful  influence  over  the  inhabitants. 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  diversified,  and  produces  no  decided  im- 
pression. Nor  have  we  here  the  unwieldy  unity  of  a  family 
or  national  combination ;  but,  in  the  presence  of  scenery  and 
displays  of  elemental  power  broken  up  into  fragmentary  forms, 
men's  attention  is  more  largely  directed  to  themselves,  and  to 
the  extension  of  their  immature  capabilities.  Thus  we  see  the 
Greeks — divided  and  separated  from  each  other — thrown  back 
upon  their  inner  spirit  and  personal  energy,  yet  at  the  same 
time  most  variously  excited  and  cautiously  circumspect.    We 


234 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 


behold  them  quite  undetermined  and  irresolute  in  the  presence 
of  Nature,  dependent  on  its  contingencies,  and  listening  anx- 
iously to  each  signal  from  the  external  world;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  intelligently  taking  cognizance  of  and  appropriat- 
ing that  outward  existence,  and  showing  boldness  and  inde- 
pendent vigor  in  contending  with  it.  These  are  the  simple 
elements  of  their  culture  and  religion.  In  tracing  up  their  mytho- 
logical conceptions,  we  find  natural  objects  forming  the  basis 
— not  en  masse,  however ;  only  in  dissevered  forms.  The  Diana 
of  Ephesus  (that  is,  Nature  as  the  universal  Mother),  the  Cyb- 
ele  and  Astarte  of  Syria — such  comprehensive  conceptions  re- 
mained Asiatic,  and  were  not  transmitted  to  Greece.  For  the 
Greeks  only  watch  the  objects  of  Nature,  and  form  surmises 
respecting  them ;  inquiring,  in  the  depth  of  their  souls,  for  the 
hidden  meaning.  According  to  Aristotle's  dictum,  that  Philos- 
ophy proceeds  from  Wonder,  the  Greek  view  of  Nature  also 
proceeds  from  wonder  of  this  kind.  Not  that  in  their  experi- 
ence, Spirit  meets  something  extraordinary,  which  it  compares 
with  the  common  order  of  things ;  for  the  intelligent  view  of  a 
regular  course  of  Nature,  and  the  reference  of  phenomena  to 
that  standard,  do  not  yet  present  themselves;  but  the  Greek 
Spirit  was  excited  to  wonder  at  the  Natural  in  Nature.  It  does 
not  maintain  the  position  of  stupid  indifference  to  it  as  some- 
thing existing,  and  there  an  end  of  it ;  but  regards  it  as  some- 
thing in  the  first  instance  foreign,  in  which,  however,  it  has  a 
presentiment  of  confidence,  and  the  belief  that  it  bears  some- 
thing within  it  which  is  friendly  to  the  human  Spirit,  and  to 
which  it  may  be  permitted  to  sustain  a  positive  relation.  This 
Wonder,  and  this  Presentiment,  are  here  the  fundamental  cate- 
gories ;  though  the  Hellenes  did  not  content  themselves  with 
these  moods  of  feelings,  but  projected  the  hidden  meaning, 
which  was  the  subject  of  the  surmise,  into  a  distinct  conception 
as  an  object  of  consciousness.  The  Natural  holds  its  place  in 
their  minds  only  after  undergoing  some  transformation  by 
Spirit — not  immediately.  Man  regards  Nature  only  as  an  ex- 
citement to  his  faculties,  and  only  the  Spiritual  which  he  has 
evolved  from  it  can  have  any  influence  over  him.  Nor  is  this 
commencement  of  the  Spiritual  apprehension  of  Nature  to  be 
regarded  as  an  explanation  suggested  by  us;  it  meets  us  in  a 
multitude  of  conceptions  formed  by  the  Greeks  themselves. 
The  position  of  curious  surmise,  of  attentive  eagerness  to  catch 


THE  GREEK  WORLD  235 

the  meaning  of  Nature,  is  indicated  to  us  in  the  comprehensive 
idea  of  Pan.  To  the  Greeks  Pan  did  not  represent  the  objective 
Whole,  but  that  indefinite  neutral  ground  which  involves  the 
element  of  the  subjective;  he  embodies  that  thrill  which  per- 
vades us  in  the  silence  of  the  forests ;  he  was,  therefore,  espe- 
cially worshipped  in  sylvan  Arcadia :  (a  "  panic  terror  "  is  the 
common  expression  for  a  groundless  fright).  Pan,  this  thrill- 
exciting  being,  is  also  represented  as  playing  on  the  flute ;  we 
have  not  the  bare  internal  presentiment,  for  Pan  makes  himself 
audible  on  the  seven-reeded  pipe.  In  what  has  been  stated  we 
have,  on  the  one  hand,  the  Indefinite,  which,  however,  holds 
communication  with  man ;  on  the  other  hand  the  fact,  that  such 
communication  is  only  a  subjective  imagining — an  explana- 
tion furnished  by  the  percipient  himself.  On  the  same  principle 
the  Greeks  listened  to  the  murmuring  of  the  fountains,  and 
asked  what  might  be  thereby  signified;  but  the  signification 
which  they  were  led  to  attach  to  it  was  not  the  objective  mean- 
ing of  the  fountain,  but  the  subjective — that  of  the  subject  itself, 
which  further  exalts  the  Naiad  to  a  Muse.  The  Naiads,  or 
Fountains,  are  the  external,  objective  origin  of  the  Muses.  Yet 
the  immortal  songs  of  the  Muses  are  not  that  which  is  heard  in 
the  murmuring  of  the  fountains ;  they  are  the  productions  of 
the  thoughtfully  listening  Spirit — creative  while  observant.  The 
interpretation  and  explanation  of  Nature  and  its  transforma- 
tions— the  indication  of  their  sense  and  import — is  the  act  of 
the  subjective  Spirit ;  and  to  this  the  Greeks  attached  the  name 
fiavTCLa.  The  general  idea  which  this  embodies,  is  the  form  in 
which  man  realizes  his  relationship  to  Nature.  Mavreia  has 
reference  both  to  the  matter  of  the  exposition  and  to  the  ex- 
pounder who  divines  the  weighty  import  in  question.  Plato 
speaks  of  it  in  reference  to  dreams,  and  to  that  delirium  into 
which  men  fall  during  sickness  ;  an  interpreter,  (iavTi%is  wanted 
to  explain  these  dreams  and  this  delirium.  That  Nature  an- 
swered the  questions  which  the  Greek  put  to  her,  is  in  this  con- 
verse sense  true,  that  he  obtained  an  answer  to  the  questions 
of  Nature  from  his  own  Spirit.  The  insight  of  the  Seer  becomes 
thereby  purely  poetical ;  Spirit  supplies  the  signification  which 
the  natural  image  expresses.  Everywhere  the  Greeks  desired 
a  clear  presentation  and  interpretation  of  the  Natural.  Homer 
tells  us,  in  the  last  book  of  the  Odyssey,  that  while  the  Greeks 
were  overwhelmed  with  sorrow  for  Achilles,  a  violent  agitation 


236  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

came  over  the  sea :  the  Greeks  were  on  the  point  of  dispersing 
in  terror,  when  the  experienced  Nestor  arose  and  interpreted 
the  phenomenon  to  them.  Thetis,  he  said,  was  coming,  with 
her  nymphs,  to  lament  for  the  death  of  her  son.  When  a 
pestilence  broke  out  in  the  camp  of  the  Greeks,  the  Priest 
Calchas  explained  that  Apollo  was  incensed  at  their  not  having 
restored  the  daughter  of  his  priest  Chryses  when  a  ransom  had 
been  offered.  The  Oracle  was  originally  interpreted  exactly 
in  this  way.  The  oldest  Oracle  was  at  Dodona  (in  the  district 
of  the  modern  Janina).  Herodotus  says  that  the  first  priestesses 
of  the  temple  there,  were  from  Egypt ;  yet  this  temple  is  stated 
to  be  an  ancient  Greek  one.  The  rustling  of  the  leaves  of  the 
sacred  oaks  was  the  form  of  prognostication  there.  Bowls  of 
metal  were  also  suspended  in  the  grove.  But  the  sounds  of 
the  bowls  dashing  against  each  other  were  quite  indefinite,  and 
had  no  objective  sense ;  the  sense — the  signification — was  im- 
parted to  the  sounds  only  by  the  human  beings  who  heard  them. 
Thus  also  the  Delphic  priestesses,  in  a  senseless,  distracted 
state — in  the  intoxication  of  enthusiasm  (jiavia) — uttered  unin- 
telligible sounds ;  and  it  was  the  /juavra  who  gave  to  these  utter- 
ances a  definite  meaning.  In  the  cave  of  Trophonius  the  noise 
of  subterranean  waters  was  heard,  and  apparitions  were  seen : 
but  these  indefinite  phenomena  acquired  a  meaning  only 
through  the  interpreting,  comprehending  Spirit.  It  must  also 
be  observed,  that  these  excitements  of  Spirit  are  in  the  first  in- 
stance external,  natural  impulses.  Succeeding  them  are  internal 
changes  taking  place  in  the  human  being  himself — such  as 
dreams,  or  the  delirium  of  the  Delphic  priestess — which  require 
to  be  made  intelligible  by  the  jicLvtis.  At  the  commencement  of 
the  Iliad,  Achilles  is  excited  against  Agamemnon,  and  is  on  the 
point  of  drawing  his  sword ;  but  on  a  sudden  he  checks  the 
movement  of  his  arm,  and  recollects  himself  in  his  wrath,  reflect- 
ing on  his  relation  to  Agamemnon.  The  Poet  explains  this  by 
saying  that  it  was  Pallas-Athene  (Wisdom  or  Consideration) 
that  restrained  him.  When  Ulysses  among  the  Phseacians  has 
thrown  his  discus  farther  than  the  rest,  and  one  of  the  Phseacians 
shows  a  friendly  disposition  towards  him,  the  Poet  recognizes 
in  him  Pallas-Athene.  Such  an  explanation  denotes  the  percep- 
tion of  the  inner  meaning,  the  sense,  the  underlying  truth;  and 
the  poets  were  in  this  way  the  teachers  of  the  Greeks — especially 
Homer.       Mavreia   in  fact  is  Poesy — not  a  capricious  indul- 


THE   GREEK   WORLD 


237 


gence  of  fancy,  but  an  imagination  which  introduces  the  Spirit- 
ual into  the  Natural — in  short  a  richly  intelligent  perception. 
The  Greek  Spirit,  on  the  whole,  therefore,  is  free  from  supersti- 
tion, since  it  changes  the  sensuous  into  the  sensible — the  Intel- 
lectual— so  that  [oracular]  decisions  are  derived  from  Spirit; 
although  superstition  comes  in  again  from  another  quarter,  as 
will  be  observed  when  impulsions  from  another  source  than  the  ■ 
Spiritual,  are  allowed  to  tell  upon  opinion  and  action. 

But  the  stimuli  that  operated  on  the  Spirit  of  the  Greeks  are 
not  to  be  limited  to  these  objective  and  subjective  incitements. 
The  traditional  element  derived  from  foreign  countries,  the  cul- 
ture, the  divinities  and  ritual  observances  transmitted  to  them 
ab  extra  must  also  be  included.  It  has  been  long  a  much  vexed 
question  whether  the  arts  and  the  religion  of  the  Greeks  were 
developed  independently  or  through  foreign  icrge^' ''on.  Un- 
der the  conduct  of  a  one-sided  understandi:  j  the  controversy 
is  interminable ;  for  it  is  no  less  a  fact  of  history  th°t  +he  Greeks 
derived  conceptions  from  India,  Syria,  and  Egypt,  han  that 
the  Greek  conceptions  are  peculiar  to  themselves,  and  those 
others  alien.  Herodotus  (II.  53)  asserts,  wi+h  equal  decision, 
that  "  Homer  and  Hesiod  invented  a  Theogony  for  the  Greeks, 
and  assigned  to  the  gods  their  appropriate  epithets  "  (a  most 
weighty  sentence,  which  has  been  the  subject  of  deep  investiga- 
tion, especially  by  Creuzer) — and,  in  another  place,  that  Greece 
took  the  names  of  its  divinities  from  Egypt,  and  that  the  Greeks 
made  inquiry  at  Dodona,  whether  they  ought  to  adopt  these 
names  or  not.  This  appears  self-contradictory :  it  is,  however, 
quite  consistent;  for  the  fact  is  that  the  Greeks  evolved  the 
Spiritual  from  the  materials  which  they  had  received.  The 
Natural,  as  explained  by  man — i.e.  its  internal  essential  element 
— is,  as  a  universal  principle,  the  beginning  of  the  Divine.  Just 
as  in  Art  the  Greeks  may  have  acquired  a  mastery  of  technical 
matters  from  others — from  the  Egyptians  especially — so  in 
their  religion  the  commencement  might  have  been  from  with- 
out ;  but  by  their  independent  spirit  they  transformed  the  one 
as  well  as  the  other. 

Traces  of  such  foreign  rudiments  may  be  generally  discov- 
ered (Creuzer,  in  his  "  Symbolik,"  dwells  especially  on  this 
point).  The  amours  of  Zeus  appear  indeed  as  something  iso- 
lated, extraneous,  adventitious,  but  it  may  be  shown  that  foreign 
theogonic  representations  form  their  basis.    Hercules  is,  among 


238  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

the  Hellenes,  that  Spiritual  Humanity  which  by  native  energy 
attains  Olympus  through  the  twelve  far-famed  labors :  but  the 
foreign  idea  that  lies  at  the  basis  is  the  Sun,  completing  its 
revolution  through  the  twelve  signs  of  the  Zodiac.  The  Mys- 
teries were  only  such  ancient  rudiments,  and  certainly  con- 
tained no  greater  wisdom  than  already  existed  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  Greeks.  All  Athenians  were  initiated  in  the 
mysteries — Socrates  excepted,  who  refused  initiation,  because 
he  knew  well  that  science  and  art  are  not  the  product  of  mys- 
teries, and  that  Wisdom  never  lies  among  arcana.  True  science 
has  its  place  much  rather  in  the  open  field  of  consciousness. 

In  summing  up  the  constituents  of  the  Greek  Spirit,  we  find 
its  fundamental  characteristic  to  be,  that  the  freedom  of  Spirit 
is  conditioned  by  and  has  an  essential  relation  to  some  stimulus 
supplied  by  Nature.  Greek  freedom  of  thought  is  excited  by 
an  alien  existence;  but  it  is  free  because  it  transforms  and 
virtually  reproduces  the  stimulus  by  its  own  operation.  This 
phase  of  Spirit  is  the  medium  between  the  loss  of  individuality 
on  the  part  of  man  (such  as  we  observe  in  the  Asiatic  principle, 
in  which  the  Spiritual  and  Divine  exists  only  under  a  Natural 
form),  and  Infinite  Subjectivity  as  pure  certainty  of  itself — the 
position  that  the  Ego  is  the  ground  of  all  that  can  lay  claim  to 
substantial  existence.  The  Greek  Spirit  as  the  medium  between 
these  two,  begins  with  Nature,  but  transforms  it  into  a  mere 
objective  form  of  its  (Spirit's)  own  existence ;  Spirituality  is 
therefore  not  yet  absolutely  free ;  not  yet  absolutely  self ^pro- 
duced— is  not  self-stimulation.  Setting  out  from  surmise  and 
wonder,  the  Greek  Spirit  advances  to  definite  conceptions  of 
the  hidden  meanings  of  Nature.  In  the  subject  itself  too,  the 
same  harmony  is  produced.  In  Man,  the  side  of  his  subjective 
existence  which  he  owes  to  Nature,  is  the  Heart,  the  Disposi- 
tion, Passion,  and  Variety  of  Temperament :  this  side  is  then 
developed  in  a  spiritual  direction  to  free  Individuality ;  so  that 
the  character  is  not  placed  in  a  relation  to  universally  valid 
moral  authorities,  assuming  the  form  of  duties,  but  the  Moral 
appears  as  a  nature  peculiar  to  the  individual — an  exertion  of 
will,  the  result  of  disposition  and  individual  constitution.  This 
stamps  the  Greek  character  as  that  of  Individuality  conditioned 
by  Beauty,  which  is  produced  by  Spirit,  transforming  the  merely 
Natural  into  an  expression  of  its  own  being.  The  activity  of 
Spirit  does  not  yet  possess  in  itself  the  material  and  organ  of 


THE   GREEK   WORLD 


239 


expression,  but  needs  the  excitement  of  Nature  and  the  matter 
which  Nature  supplies :  it  is  not  free,  self-determining  Spiritu- 
ality, but  mere  naturalness  formed  to  Spirituality — Spiritual 
Individuality.  The  Greek  Spirit  is  the  plastic  artist,  forming 
the  stone  into  a  work  of  art.  In  this  formative  process  the  stone 
does  not  remain  mere  stone — the  form  being  only  superin- 
duced from  without ;  but  it  is  made  an  expression  of  the  Spirit- 
ual, even  contrary  to  its  nature,  and  thus  transformed.  Con- 
versely, the  artist  needs  for  his  spiritual  conceptions,  stone, 
colors,  sensuous  forms  to  express  his  idea.  Without  such  an 
element  he  can  no  more  be  conscious  of  the  idea  himself,  than 
give  it  an  objective  form  for  the  contemplation  of  others ;  since 
it  cannot  in  Thought  alone  become  an  object  to  him.  The 
Egyptian  Spirit  also  was  a  similar  laborer  in  Matter,  but  the 
Natural  had  not  yet  been  subjected  to  the  Spiritual,  No  ad- 
vance was  made  beyond  a  struggle  and  contest  with  it;  the 
Natural  still  took  an  independent  position,  and  formed  one  side 
of  the  image,  as  in  the  body  of  the  Sphinx.  In  Greek  Beauty 
the  Sensuous  is  only  a  sign,  an  expression,  an  envelope,  in  which  • 
Spirit  manifests  itself. 

It  must  be  added,  that  while  the  Greek  Spirit  is  a  transform- 
ing artist  of  this  kind,  it  knows  itself  free  in  its  productions ; 
for  it  is  their  creator,  and  they  are  what  is  called  the  "  work  of 
man."  They  are,  however,  not  merely  this,  but  Eternal  Truth 
— the  energizing  of  Spirit  in  its  innate  essence,  and  quite  as 
really  not  created  as  created  by  man.  He  has  a  respect  and 
veneration  for  these  conceptions  and  images — this  Olympian 
Zeus — this  Pallas  of  the  Acropolis — and  in  the  same  way  for  the 
laws,  political  and  ethical,  that  guide  his  actions.  But  He,  the 
human  being,  is  the  womb  that  conceived  them,  he  the  breast 
that  suckled  them,  he  the  Spiritual  to  which  their  grandeur 
and  purity  are  owing.  Thus  he  feels  himself  calm  in  contem- 
plating them,  and  not  only  free  in  himself,  but  possessing  the 
consciousness  of  his  freedom ;  thus  the  honor  of  the  Human  is 
swallowed  up  in  the  worship  of  the  Divine.  Men  honor  the 
Divine  in  and  for  itself,  but  at  the  same  time  as  their  deed,  their 
production,  their  phenomenal  existence;  thus  the  Divine  re- 
ceives its  honor  through  the  respect  paid  to  the  Human,  and 
the  Human  in  virtue  of  the  honor  paid  to  the  Divine. 

Such  are  the  qualities  of  that  Beautiful  Individuality,  which 
constitutes  the  centre  of  the  Greek  character.    We  must  now 


240 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 


consider  the  several  radiations  wnich  this  idea  throws  out  in 
realizing  itself.  All  issue  in  works  of  art,  and  we  may  arrange 
under  three  heads :  the  subjective  work  of  art,  that  is,  the  cul- 
ture of  the  man  himself; — the  objective  work  of  art,  i.e.,  the 
shaping  of  the  world  of  divinities ; — lastly,  the  political  work  of 
art — the  form  of  the  Constitution,  and  the  relations  of  the  In- 
dividuals who  compose  it, , 


SECTION   II 

PHASES  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  ^STHETICALLY 
CONDITIONED 

Chapter  I. — The  Subjective  Work  of  Art 

AN  with  his  necessities  sustains  a  practical  relation  to 
external  Nature,  and  in  making  it  satisfy  his  desires, 
and  thus  using  it  up,  has  recourse  to  a  system  of  means. 
For  natural  objects  are  powerful,  and  offer  resistance  in  various 
ways.  In  order  to  subdue  them,  man  introduces  other  natural 
agents ;  thus  turns  Nature  against  itself,  and  invents  instruments 
for  this  purpose.  These  human  inventions  belong  to  Spirit, 
and  such  an  instrument  is  to  be  respected  more  than  a  mere 
natural  object.  We  see,  too,  that  the  Greeks  are  accustomed 
to  set  an  especial  value  upon  them,  for  in  Homer,  man's  delight 
in  them  appears  in  a  very  striking  way.  In  the  notice  of 
Agamemnon's  sceptre,  its  origin  is  given  in  detail :  mention  is 
made  of  doors  which  turn  on  hinges,  and  of  accoutrements  and 
furniture,  in  a  way  that  expresses  satisfaction.  The  honor  of 
human  invention  in  subjugating  Nature  is  ascribed  to  the  gods. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  man  uses  Nature  for  ornament,  which 
is  intended  only  as  a  token  of  wealth  and  of  that  which  man 
has  made  of  himself.  We  find  Ornament,  in  this  interest,  al- 
ready very  much  developed  among  the  Homeric  Greeks.  It  is 
true  that  both  barbarians  and  civilized  nations  ornament  them- 
selves ;  but  barbarians  content  themselves  with  mere  ornament ; 
— they  intend  their  persons  to  please  by  an  external  addition. 
But  ornament  by  its  very  nature  is  destined  only  to  beautify 
something  other  than  itself,  viz.  the  human  body,  which  is 
man's  immediate  environment,  and  which,  in  common  with 
Nature  at  large,  he  has  to  transform.  The  spiritual  interest  of 
primary  importance  is,  therefore,  the  development  of  the  body 
to  a  perfect  organ  for  the  Will — an  adaptation  which  may  on 
the  one  hand  itself  be  the  means  for  ulterior  objects,  and  on  the 
i  241 


242  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

other  hand,  appear  as  an  object  per  se.  Among  the  Greeks, 
then,  we  find  this  boundless  impulse  of  individuals  to  display 
themselves,  and  to  find  their  enjoyment  in  so  doing.  Sensuous 
enjoyment  does  not  become  the  basis  of  their  condition  when 
a  state  of  repose  has  been  obtained,  any  more  than  the  depen- 
dence and  stupor  of  superstition  which  enjoyment  entails.  They 
are  too  powerfully  excited,  too  much  bent  upon  developing 
their  individuality,  absolutely  to  adore  Nature,  as  it  manifests 
itself  in  its  aspects  of  power  and  beneficence.  That  peaceful 
condition  which  ensued  when  a  predatory  life  had  been  relin- 
quished, and  liberal  nature  had  afforded  security  and  leisure, 
turned  their  energies  in  the  direction  of  self-assertion — the  ef- 
fort to  dignify  themselves.  But  while  on  the  one  side  they  have 
too  much  independent  personality  to  be  subjugated  by  super- 
stition, that  sentiment  has  not  gone  to  the  extent  of  making 
them  vain;  on  the  contrary,  essential  conditions  must  be  first 
satisfied,  before  this  can  become  a  matter  of  vanity  with  them. 
The  exhilarating  sense  of  personality,  in  contrast  with  sensuous 
subjection  to  nature,  and  the  need,  not  of  mere  pleasure,  but  of 
the  display  of  individual  powers,  in  order  thereby  to  gain  special 
distinction  and  consequent  enjoyment,  constitute  therefore  the 
chief  characteristic  and  principal  occupation  of  the  Greeks. 
Free  as  the  bird  singing  in  the  sky,  the  individual  only  expresses 
what  lies  in  his  untrammelled  human  nature — [to  give  the 
world  "  assurance  of  a  man  "] — to  have  his  importance  recog- 
nized. This  is  the  subjective  beginning  of  Greek  Art — in  which 
the  human  being  elaborates  his  physical  being,  in  free,  beauti- 
ful movement  and  agile  vigor,  to  a  work  of  art.  The  Greeks 
first  trained  their  own  persons  to  beautiful  configurations  be^ 
fore  they  attempted  the  expression  of  such  in  marble  and  in 
paintings.  The  innocuous  contests  of  games,  in  which  every 
one  exhibits  his  powers,  is  of  very  ancient  date.  Homer  gives 
a  noble  description  of  the  games  conducted  by  Achilles,  in 
honor  of  Patroclus ;  but  in  all  his  poems  there  is  no  notice  of 
statues  of  the  gods,  though  he  mentions  the  sanctuary  at  Do- 
dona,  and  the  treasure-house  of  Apollo  at  Delphi.  The  games 
in  Homer  consist  in  wrestling  and  boxing,  running,  horse  and 
chariot  races,  throwing  the  discus  or  javelin,  and  archery.  With 
these  exercises  are  united  dance  and  song,  to  express  and  form 
part  of  the  enjoyment  of  social  exhilaration,  and  which  arts 
likewise  blossomed  into  beauty.     On  the  shield  of  Achilles, 


THE   GREEK   WORLD 


243 


Hephaestus  represents,  among  •  other  things,  how  beautiful 
youths  and  maidens  move  as  quickly  "  with  well-taught  feet," 
as  the  potter  turns  his  wheel.  The  multitude  stand  round  en- 
joying the  spectacle ;  the  divine  singer  accompanies  the  song 
with  the  harp,  and  two  chief  dancers  perform  their  evolutions 
in  the  centre  of  the  circle. 

These  games  and  aesthetic  displays,  with  the  pleasures  and 
honors  that  accompanied  them,  were  at  the  outset  only  private, 
originating  in  particular  occasions ;  but  in  the  sequel  they  be- 
came an  affair  of  the  nation,  and  were  fixed  for  certain  times  at 
appointed  places.  Besides  the  Olympic  games  in  the  sacred 
district  of  Elis,  there  were  also  held  the  Isthmian,  the  Pythian, 
and  Nemean,  at  other  places. 

If  we  look  at  the  inner  nature  of  these  sports,  we  shall  first 
observe  how  Sport  itself  is  opposed  to  serious  business,  to 
dependence  and  need.  This  wrestling,  running,  contending 
was  no  serious  affair;  bespoke  no  obligation  of  defence,  no 
necessity  of  combat.  Serious  occupation  is  labor  that  has  refer- 
ence to  some  want.  I  or  Nature  must  succumb ;  if  the  one  is  to 
continue,  the  other  must  fall.  In  contrast  with  this  kind  of 
seriousness,  however,  Sport  presents  the  higher  seriousness ; 
for  in  it  Nature  is  wrought  into  Spirit,  and  although  in  these 
contests  the  subject  has  not  advanced  to  the  highest  grade  of 
serious  thought,  yet  in  this  exercise  of  his  physical  powers, 
man  shows  his  Freedom,  viz.  that  he  has  transformed  his  body 
to  an  organ  of  Spirit. 

Man  has  immediately  in  one  of  his  organs,  the  Voice,  an 
element  which  admits  and  requires  a  more  extensive  purport 
than  the  mere  sensuous  Present.  We  have  seen  how  Song  is 
united  with  the  Dance,  and  ministers  to  it :  but,  subsequently 
Song  makes  itself  independent,  and  requires  musical  instru- 
ments to  accompany  it ;  it  then  ceases  to  be  unmeaning,  like 
the  modulations  of  a  bird,  which  may  indeed  express  emotion, 
but  which  have  no  objective  import ;  but  it  requires  an  import 
created  by  imagination  and  Spirit,  and  which  is  then  further 
formed  into  an  objective  work  of  art. 


244  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

Chapter  II The  Objective  Work  of  Art 

If  the  subject  of  Song  as  thus  developed  among  the  Greeks 
is  made  a  question,  we  should  say  that  its  essential  and  absolute 
purport  is  religious.  We  have  examined  the  Idea  embodied  in 
the  Greek  Spirit;  and  Religion  is  nothing  else  than  this  Idea 
made  objective.as  the  essence  of  being.  According  to  that  Idea, 
we  shall  observe  also  that  the  Divine  involves  the  vis  nature? 
only  as  an  element  suffering  a  process  of  transformation  to 
spiritual  power.  Of  this  Natural  Element,  as  its  origin,  nothing 
more  remains  than  the  accord  of  analogy  involved  in  the  repre- 
sentation they  formed  of  Spiritual  power ;  for  the  Greeks  wor- 
shipped God  as  Spiritual.  We  cannot,  therefore,  regard  the 
Greek  divinity  as  similar  to  the  Indian — some  Power  of  Nature 
for  which  the  human  shape  supplies  only  an  outward  form. 
The  essence  is  the  Spiritual  itself,  and  the  Natural  is  only  the 
point  of  departure.  But  on  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  ob- 
served, that  the  divinity  of  the  Greeks  is  not  yet  the  absolute, 
free  Spirit,  but  Spirit  in  a  particular  mode,  fettered  by  the  limi- 
tations of  humanity — still  dependent  as  a  determinate  individ- 
uality on  external  conditions.  Individualities,  objectively  beau- 
tiful, are  the  gods  of  the  Greeks.  The  divine  Spirit  is  here  so 
conditioned  as  to  be  not  yet  regarded  as  abstract  Spirit,  but  has 
a  specialized  existence — continues  to  manifest  itself  in  sense ;  but 
so  that  the  sensuous  is  not  its  substance,  but  is  only  an  element 
of  its  manifestation.  This  must  be  our  leading  idea  in  the  con- 
sideration of  the  Greek  mythology,  and  we  must  have  our  atten- 
tion fixed  upon  it  so  much  the  more  firmly,  as — partly  through 
the  influence  of  erudition,  which  has  whelmed  essential  prin- 
ciples beneath  an  infinite  amount  of  details,  and  partly  through 
that  destructive  analysis  which  is  the  work  of  the  abstract  Un- 
derstanding— this  mythology,  together  with  the  more  ancient 
periods  of  Greek  history,  has  become  a  region  of  the  greatest 
intellectual  confusion. 

In  the  Idea  of  the  Greek  Spirit  we  found  the  two  elements, 
Nature  and  Spirit,  in  such  a  relation  to  each  other,  that  Nature 
forms  merely  the  point  of  departure.  This  degradation  of  Nat- 
ure is  in  the  Greek  mythology  the  turning  point  of  the  whole 
— expressed  as  the  War  of  the  Gods,  the  overthrow  of  the  Titans 
by  the  race  of  Zeus.  The  transition  from  the  Oriental  to  the 
Occidental  Spirit  is  therein  represented,  for  the  Titans  are  the 


THE  GREEK  WORLD  245 

merely  Physical — natural  existences,  from  whose  grasp  sov- 
ereignty is  wrested.  It  is  true  that  they  continue  to  be  ven- 
erated, but  not  as  governing  powers ;  for  they  are  relegated  to 
the  verge  [the  limbus]  of  the  world.  The  Titans  are  powers 
of  Nature,  Uranus,  Gsea,  Oceanus,  Selene,  Helios,  etc.  Chronos 
expresses  the  dominion  of  abstract  Time,  which  devours  its 
children.  The  unlimited  power  of  reproduction  is  restrained, 
and  Zeus  appears  as  the  head  of  the  new  divinities,  who  em- 
body a  spiritual  import,  and  are  themselves  Spirit.*  It  is  not 
possible  to  express  this  transition  more  distinctly  and  naively 
than  in  this  myth ;  the  new  dynasty  of  divinities  proclaim  their 
peculiar  nature  to  be  of  a  Spiritual  order. 

The  second  point  is,  that  the  new  divinities  retain  natural  ele- 
ments, and  consequently  in  themselves  a  determinate  relation 
to  the  powers  of  Nature,  as  was  previously  shown.  Zeus  has 
his  lightnings  and  clouds,  and  Hera  is  the  creatress  of  the 
Natural,  the  producer  of  crescent  vitality.  Zeus  is  also  the  po- 
litical god,  the  protector  of  morals  and  of  hospitality.  Oceanus, 
as  such,  is  only  the  element  of  Nature  which  his  name  denotes. 
Poseidon  has  still  the  wildness  of  that  element  in  his  character ; 
but  he  is  also  an  ethical  personage ;  to  him  is  ascribed  the  build- 
ing of  walls  and  the  production  of  the  Horse.  Helios  is  the 
sun  as  a  natural  element.  This  Light,  according  to  the  anal- 
ogy of  Spirit,  has  been  transformed  to  self-consciousness,  and 
Apollo  has  proceeded  from  Helios.  The  name  Aviceio*;  points 
to  the  connection  with  light ;  Apollo  was  a  herdsman  in  the  em- 
ploy of  Admetus,  but  oxen  not  subjected  to  the  yoke  were 
sacred  to  Helios :  his  rays,  represented  as  arrows,  kill  the  Py- 
thon. The  idea  of  Light  as  the  natural  power  constituting  the 
basis  of  the  representation,  cannot  be  dissociated  from  this 
divinity;  especially  as  the  other  predicates  attached  to  it  are 
easily  united  with  it,  and  the  explanations  of  Miiller  and  others, 
who  deny  that  basis,  are  much  more  arbitrary  and  far-fetched. 
For  Apollo  is  the  prophesying  and  discerning  god — Light,  that 
makes  everything  clear.  He  is,  moreover,  the  healer  and 
strengthener ;  as  also  the  destroyer,  for  he  kills  men.  He  is 
the  propitiating  and  purifying  god,  e.g.,  in  contravention  of  the 
Eumenides — the  ancient  subterrene  divinities — who  exact  hard, 
stern  justice.  He  himself  is  pure ;  he  has  no  wife,  but  only  a 
sister,  and  is  not  involved  in  various  disgusting  adventures,  like 

*  See  Hegel's  "  Vorles.  uber  die  Philos.  der  Religion,"  II.  p.  102  et  seq.    (2d  edi- 
tion.) 


246  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

Zeus ;  moreover,  he  is  the  discerner  and  declarer,  the  singer 
and  leader  of  the  dances — as  the  sun  leads  the  harmonious 
dance  of  stars. — In  like  manner  the  Naiads  became  the  Muses. 
The  mother  of  the  gods,  Cybele — continuing  to  be  worshipped 
at  Ephesus  as  Artemis — is  scarcely  to  be  recognized  as  the  Ar- 
temis of  the  Greeks — the  chaste  huntress  and  destroyer  of  wild 
beasts.  Should  it  be  said  that  this  change  of  the  Natural  into 
the  Spiritual  is  owing  to  our  allegorizing,  or  that  of  the  later 
Greeks,  we  may  reply,  that  this  transformation  of  the  Natural 
to  the  Spiritual  is  the  Greek  Spirit  itself.  The  epigrams  of 
the  Greeks  exhibit  such  advances  from  the  Sensuous  to  the 
Spiritual.  But  the  abstract  Understanding  cannot  comprehend 
this  blending  of  the  Natural  with  the  Spiritual. 

It  must  be  further  observed,  that  the  Greek  gods  are  to  be 
regarded  as  individualities — not  abstractions,  like  "  Knowl- 
edge," "  Unity,"  "  Time,"  "  Heaven,"  "  Necessity."  Such  ab- 
stractions do  not  form  the  substance  of  these  divinities ;  they 
are  no  allegories,  no  abstract  beings,  to  which  various  attributes 
are  attached,  like  the  Horatian  "  Necessitas  clavis  trabalibus." 
As  little  are  the  divinities  symbols,  for  a  symbol  is  only  a  sign, 
an  adumbration  of  something  else.  The  Greek  gods  express 
of  themselves  what  they  are.  The  eternal  repose  and  clear  in- 
telligence that  dignifies  the  head  of  Apollo,  is  not  a  symbol,  but 
the  expression  in  which  Spirit  manifests  itself,  and  shows  itself 
present.  The  gods  are  personalities,  concrete  individualities: 
an  allegorical  being  has  no  qualities,  but  is  itself  one  quality  and 
no  more.  The  gods  are,  moreover,  special  characters,  since  in 
each  of  them  one  peculiarity  predominates  as  the  characteristic 
one  ;  but  it  would  be  vain  to  try  to  bring  this  circle  of  characters 
into  a  system.  Zeus,  perhaps,  may  be  regarded  as  ruling  the 
other  gods,  but  not  with  substantial  power ;  so  that  they  are 
left  free  to  their  own  idiosyncrasy.  Since  the  whole  range  of 
spiritual  and  moral  qualities  was  appropriated  by  the  gods,  the 
unity,  which  stood  above  them  all,  necessarily  remained  ab- 
stract ;  it  was  therefore  formless  and  unmeaning  Fact,  [the  ab- 
solute constitution  of  things] — Necessity,  whose  oppressive 
character  arises  from  the  absence  of  the  Spiritual  in  it ;  whereas 
the  gods  hold  a  friendly  relation  to  men,  for  they  are  Spiritual 
natures.  That  higher  thought,  the  knowledge  of  Unity  as  God 
— the  One  Spirit — lay  beyond  that  grade  of  thought  which  the 
Greeks  had  attained. 


THE   GREEK   WORLD  247 

With  regard  to  the  adventitious  and  special  that  attaches  to  the 
Greek  gods,  the  question  arises,  where  the  external  origin  of 
this  adventitious  element  is  to  be  looked  for.  It  arises  partly 
from  local  characteristics — the  scattered  condition  of  the  Greeks 
at  the  commencement  of  their  national  life,  fixing  as  this  did  on 
certain  points,  and  consequently  introducing  local  representa- 
tions. The  local  divinities  stand  alone,  and  occupy  a  much 
greater  extent  than  they  do  afterwards,  when  they  enter  into 
the  circle  of  the  divinities,  and  are  reduced  to  a  limited  position ; 
they  are  conditioned  by  the  particular  consciousness  and  cir- 
cumstances of  the  countries  in  which  they  appear.  There  are  a 
multitude  of  Herculeses  and  Zeuses,  that  have  their  local  his- 
tory like  the  Indian  gods,  who  also  at  different  places  possess 
temples  to  which  a  peculiar  legend  attaches.  A  similar  rela- 
tion occurs  in  the  case  of  the  Catholic  saints  and  their  legends ; 
though  here,  not  the  several  localities,  but  the  one  "  Mater  Dei  " 
supplies  the  point  of  departure,  being  afterwards  localized  in 
the  most  diversified  modes.  The  Greeks  relate  the  liveliest  and 
most  attractive  stories  of  their  gods — to  which  no  limit  can  be 
assigned,  since  rich  fancies  were  always  gushing  forth  anew 
in  the  living  Spirit  of  *he  Greeks.  A  second  source  from  which 
adventitious  specialities  in  the  conception  of  the  gods  arose  is 
that  Worship  of  Nature,  whose  representations  retain  a  place 
in  the  Greek  myths,  as  certainly  as  they  appear  there  also  in  a 
regenerated  and  transfigured  condition.  The  preservation  of 
the  original  myths,  brings  us  to  the  famous  chapter  of  the 
"  Mysteries,"  already  mentioned.  These  mysteries  of  the  Greeks 
present  something  which,  as  unknown,  has  attracted  the  curios- 
ity of  all  times,  under  the  supposition  of  profound  wisdom.  It 
must  first  be  remarked  that  their  antique  and  primary  character, 
in  virtue  of  its  very  antiquity,  shows  their  destitution  of  excel- 
lence— their  inferiority ; — that  the  more  refined  truths  are  not 
expressed  in  these  mysteries,  and  that  the  view  which  many  have 
entertained  is  incorrect,  viz. — that  the  Unity  of  God,  in  oppo- 
sition to  polytheism,  was  taught  in  them.  The  mysteries  were 
rather  antique  rituals ;  and  it  is  as  unhistorical  as  it  is  foolish, 
to  assume  that  profound  philosophical  truths  are  to  be  found 
there ;  since,  on  the  contrary,  only  natural  ideas — ruder  con- 
ceptions of  the  metamorphoses  occurring  everywhere  in  nature, 
and  of  the  vital  principle  that  pervades  it — were  the  subjects  of 
those  mysteries.    If  we  put  together  all  the  historical  data  per- 


248  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

tinent  to  tlie  question,  the  result  we  shall  inevitably  arrive  at  will 
be  that  the  mysteries  did  not  constitute  a  system  of  doctrines, 
but  were  sensuous  ceremonies  and  exhibitions,  consisting  of 
symbols  of  the  universal  operations  of  Nature,  as,  e.g.,  the  rela- 
tion of  the  earth  to  celestial  phenomena.  The  chief  basis  of  the 
representations  of  Ceres  and  Proserpine,  Bacchus  and  his  train, 
was  the  universal  principle  of  Nature ;  and  the  accompanying 
details  were  obscure  stories  and  representations,  mainly  bear- 
ing on  the  universal  vital  force  and  its  metamorphoses.  An 
analogous  process  to  that  of  Nature,  Spirit  has  also  to  undergo ; 
for  it  must  be  twice-born,  i.e.  abnegate  itself ;  and  thus  the  repre- 
sentations given  in  the  mysteries  called  attention,  though  only 
feebly,  to  the  nature  of  Spirit.  In  the  Greeks  they  produced  an 
emotion  of  shuddering  awe;  for  an  instinctive  dread  comes 
over  men,  when  a  signification  is  perceived  in  a  form,  which  as 
a  sensuous  phenomenon  does  not  express  that  signification,  and 
which  therefore  both  repels  and  attracts — awakes  surmises  by 
the  import  that  reverberates  through  the  whole,  but  at  the  same 
time  a  thrill  of  dread  at  the  repellent  form.  ^Eschylus  was  ac- 
cused of  having  profaned  the  mysteries  in  his  tragedies.  The 
indefinite  representations  and  symbols  of  the  Mysteries,  in 
which  the  profound  import  is  only  surmised,  are  an  element 
alien  to  the  clear  pure  forms,  and  threaten  them  with  destruc- 
tion ;  on  which  account  the  gods  of  Art  remain  separated  from 
the  gods  of  the  Mysteries,  and  the  two  spheres  must  be  strictly 
dissociated.  Most  of  their  gods  the  Greeks  received  from  for- 
eign lands — as  Herodotus  states  expressly  with  regard  to  Egypt 
— but  these  exotic  myths  were  transformed  and  spiritualized  by 
the  Greeks ;  and  that  part  of  the  foreign  theogonies  which  ac- 
companied them,  was,  in  the  mouth  of  the  Hellenes,  worked 
up  into  a  legendary  narrative  which  often  redounded  to  the  dis- 
advantage of  the  divinities.  Thus  also  the  brutes  which  con- 
tinued to  rank  as  gods  among  the  Egyptians,  were  degraded 
to  external  signs,  accompanying  the  Spiritual  god.  While  they 
have  each  an  individual  character,  the  Greek  gods  are  also 
represented  as  human,  and  this  anthropomorphism  is  charged 
as  a  defect.  On  the  contrary  (we  may  immediately  rejoin)  man 
as  the  Spiritual  constitutes  the  element  of  truth  in  the  Greek 
gods,  which  rendered  them  superior  to  all  elemental  deities, 
and  all  mere  abstractions  of  the  One  and  Highest  Being.  On 
the  other  side  it  is  alleged  as  an  advantage  of  the  Greek  gods 


THE   GREEK   WORLD 


249 


that  they  are  represented  as  men — that  being  regarded  as  not 
the  case  with  the  Christian  God.    Schiller  says : 

"  While  the  gods  remained  more  human, 
The  men  were  more  ,divine." 

But  the  Greek  gods  must  not  be  regarded  as  more  human  than 
the  Christian  God.  Christ  is  much  more  a  Man:  he  lives,  dies 
— suffers  death  on  the  cross — which  is  infinitely  more  human 
than  the  humanity  of  the  Greek  Idea  of  the  Beautiful.  But  in 
referring  to  this  common  element  of  the  Greek  and  the  Chris- 
tian religions,  it  must  be  said  of  both,  that  if  a  manifestation 
of  God  is  to  be  supposed  at  all,  his  natural  form  must  be  that 
of  Spirit,  which  for  sensuous  conception  is  essentially  the 
human ;  for  no  other  form  can  lay  claim  to  spirituality.  God 
appears  indeed  in  the  sun,  in  the  mountains,  in  the  tr  es,  in 
everything  that  has  life ;  but  a  natural  appearance  of  this  kind, 
is  not  the  form  proper  to  Spirit :  here  God  is  cognizable  only 
in  the  mind  of  the  percipient.  If  God  himself  is  to  be  manifested 
in  a  corresponding  expression,  that  can  only  be  the  human 
form :  for  from  this  the  Spiritual  beams  forth.  But  if  it  were 
asked:  Does  God  necessarily  manifest  himself?  the  question 
must  be  answered  in  the  affirmative ;  for  there  is  no  essential 
existence  that  does  not  manifest  itself.  The  real  defect  of  the 
Greek  religion,  as  compared  with  the  Christian,  is,  therefore, 
that  in  the  former  the  manifestation  constitutes  the  highest  mode 
in  which  the  Divine  being  is  conceived  to  exist — the  sum  and 
substance  of  divinity ;  while  in  the  Christian  religion  the  man- 
ifestation is  regarded  only  as  a  temporary  phase  of  the  Divine. 
Here  the  manifested  God  dies,  and  elevates  himself  to  glory; 
only  after  death  is  Christ  represented  as  sitting  at  the  right  hand 
of  God.  The  Greek  god,  on  the  contrary,  exists  for  his  wor- 
shippers perennially  in  the  manifestation — only  in  marble,  in 
metal  or  wood,  or  as  figured  by  the  imagination.  But  why  did 
God  not  appear  to  the  Greeks  in  the  flesh  ?  Because  man  was 
not  duly  estimated,  did  not  obtain  honor  and  dignity,  till  he  had 
more  fully  elaborated  and  developed  himself  in  the  attainment 
of  the  Freedom  implicit  in  the  aesthetic  manifestation  in  ques- 
tion ;  the  form  and  shaping  of  the  divinity  therefore  continued 
to  be  the  product  of  individual  views,  [not  a  general,  imper- 
sonal one] .  One  element  in  Spirit  is,  that  it  produces  itself — 
makes  itself  what  it  is :  and  the  other  is,  that  it  is  originally  free 


25° 


PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 


— that  Freedom  is  its  nature  and  its  Idea.  But  the  Greeks,  since 
they  had  not  attained  an  intellectual  conception  of  themselves, 
did  not  yet  realize  Spirit  in  its  Universality — had  not  the  idea 
of  man  and  the  essential  unity  of  the  divine  and  human  nature 
according  to  the  Christian  view.  Only  the  self-reliant,  truly 
subjective  Spirit  can  bear  to  dispense  with  the  phenomenal  side, 
and  can  venture  to  assign  the  Divine  Nature  to  Spirit  alone. 
It  then  no  longer  needs  to  inweave  the  Natural  into  its  idea  of 
the  Spiritual,  in  order  to  hold  fast  its  conception  of  the  Divine, 
and  to  have  its  unity  with  the  Divine,  externally  visible ;  but 
while  free  Thought  thinks  the  Phenomenal,  it  is  content  to 
leave  it  as  it  is ;  for  it  also  thinks  that  union  of  the  Finite  and 
the  Infinite,  and  recognizes  it  not  as  a  mere  accidental  union, 
but  as  the  Absolute — the  eternal  Idea  itself.  Since  Subjectivity 
was  not  comprehended  in  all  its  depth  by  the  Greek  Spirit,  the 
true  reconciliation  was  not  attained  in  it,  and  the  human  Spirit 
did  not  yet  assert  its  true  position.  This  defect  showed  itself 
in  the  fact  of  Fate  as  pure  subjectivity  appearing  superior  to 
the  gods ;  it  also  shows  itself  in  the  fact,  that  men  derive  their 
resolves  not  yet  from  themselves,  but  from  their  Oracles. 
Neither  human  nor  divine  subjectivity,  recognized  as  infinite, 
has  as  yet,  absolutely  decisive  authority. 

Chapter  III — The  Political  Work  of  Art 

The  State  unites  the  two  phases  just  considered,  viz.,  the 
Subjective  and  the  Objective  Work  of  Art.  In  the  State,  Spirit 
is  not  a  mere  Object,  like  the  deities,  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
it  merely  subjectively  developed  to  a  beautiful  physique.  It  is 
here  a  living,  universal  Spirit,  but  which  is  at  the  same  time  the 
self-conscious  Spirit  of  the  individuals  composing  the  com- 
munity. 

The  Democratical  Constitution  alone  was  adapted  to  the  Spirit 
and  political  condition  in  question.  In  the  East  we  recognized 
Despotism,  developed  in  magnificent  proportions,  as  a  form  of 
government  strictly  appropriate  to  the  Dawn-Land  of  History. 
Not  less  adapted  is  the  democratical  form  in  Greece,  to  the  part 
assigned  to  it  in  the  same  great  drama.  In  Greece,  viz.,  we  have 
the  freedom  of  the  Individual,  but  it  has  not  yet  advanced  to 
such  a  degree  of  abstraction,  that  the  subjective  unit  is  conscious 
of  direct  dependence  on  the  [general]  substantial  principle — 


THE  GREEK  WORLD  251 

the  State  as  such.  In  this  grade  of  Freedom,  the  individual  will 
is  unfettered  in  the  entire  range  of  its  vitality,  and  embodies  that 
substantial  principle  [the  bond  of  the  political  union],  accord- 
ing to  its  particular  idiosyncrasy.  In  Rome,  on  the  other  hand, 
we  shall  observe  a  harsh  sovereignty  dominating  over  the  in- 
dividual members  of  the  State ;  as  also  in  the  German  Empire, 
a  monarchy,  in  which  the  Individual  is  connected  with  and  has 
devoirs  to  perform  not  only  in  regard  to  the  monarch,  but  to 
the  whole  monarchical  organization. 

The  Democratical  State  is  not  Patriarchal — does  not  rest  on 
a  still  unreflecting,  undeveloped  confidence — but  implies  laws, 
with  the  consciousness  of  their  being  founded  on  an  equitable 
and  moral  basis,  and  the  recognition  of  these  laws  as  positive. 
At  the  time  of  the  Kings,  no  political  life  had  as  yet  made  its 
appearance  in  Hellas ;  there  are,  therefore,  only  slight  traces  of 
Legislation.  But  in  the  interval  from  the  Trojan  War  till  near 
the  time  of  Cyrus,  its  necessity  was  felt.  The  first  Lawgivers 
are  known  under  the  name  of  The  Seven  Sages — a  title  which 
at  that  time  did  not  imply  any  such  character  as  that  of  the 
Sophists — teachers  of  wisdom,  designedly  [and  systematically] 
proclaiming  the  Right  and  True — but  merely  thinking  men, 
whose  thinking  stopped  short  of  Science,  properly  so  called. 
They  were  practical  politicians ;  the  good  counsels  which  two 
of  them — Thales  of  Miletus  and*  Bias  of  Priene — gave  to  the 
Ionian  cities,  have  been  already  mentioned.  Thus  Solon  was 
commissioned  by  the  Athenians  to  give  them  laws,  as  those 
then  in  operation  no  longer  sufficed.  Solon  gave  the  Athe- 
nians a  constitution  by  which  all  obtained  equal  rights,  yet  not 
so  as  to  render  the  Democracy  a  quite  abstract  one.  The  main 
point  in  Democracy  is  moral  disposition.  Virtue  is  the  basis  of 
Democracy,  remarks  Montesquieu;  and  this  sentiment  is  as 
important  as  it  is  true  in  reference  to  the  idea  of  Democracy 
commonly  entertained.  The  Substance,  [the  Principle]  of 
Justice,  the  common  weal,  the  general  interest,  is  the  main  con- 
sideration ;  but  it  is  so  only  as  Custom,  in  the  form  of  Objective 
Will,  so  that  morality  properly  so  called — subjective  convic- 
tion and  intention — has  not  yet  manifested  itself.  Law  exists, 
and  is  in  point  of  substance,  the  Law  of  Freedom — rational  [in 
its  form  and  purport,]  and  valid  because  it  is  Law,  i.e.  without 
ulterior  sanction.  As  in  Beauty  the  Natural  element — its  sen- 
suous coefficient — remains,  so  also  in  this  customary  morality. 

Vol.  23  L— Classics 


252  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

laws  assume  the  form  of  a  necessity  of  Nature.  The  Greeks  oc- 
cupy the  middle  ground  of  Beauty  and  have  not  yet  attained  the 
higher  standpoint  of  Truth.  While  Custom  and  Wont  is  the 
form  in  which  the  Right  is  willed  and  done,  that  form  is  a  stable 
one,  and  has  not  yet  admitted  into  it  the  foe  of  [unreflected]  im- 
mediacy— reflection  and  subjectivity  of  Will.  The  interests  of 
the  community  may,  therefore,  continue  to  be  intrusted  to  the 
will  and  resolve  of  the  citizens — and  this  must  be  the  basis  of 
the  Greek  constitution ;  for  no  principle  has  as  yet  manifested 
itself,  which  can  contravene  such  Choice  conditioned  by  Cus- 
tom, and  hinder  its  realizing  itself  in  action.  The  Democratic 
Constitution  is  here  the  only  possible  one :  the  citizens  are  still 
unconscious  of  particular  interests,  and  therefore  of  a  corrupt- 
ing element:  the  Objective  Will  is  in  their  case  not  disin- 
tegrated. Athene  the  goddess  is  Athens  itself — i.e.,  the  real 
and  concrete  spirit  of  the  citizens.  The  divinity  ceases  to  in- 
spire their  life  and  conduct,  only  when  the  Will  has  retreated 
within  itself — into  the  adytum  of  cognition  and  conscience — and 
has  posited  the  infinite  schism  between  the  Subjective  and  the 
Objective.  The  above  is  the  true  position  of  the  Democratic 
polity;  its  justification  and  absolute  necessity  rest  on  this  still 
immanent  Objective  Morality.  For  the  modern  conceptions 
of  Democracy  this  justification  cannot  be  pleaded.  These  pro- 
vide that  the  interests  of  the  community,  the  affairs  of  State, 
shall  be  discussed  and  decided  by  the  People ;  that  the  individ- 
ual members  of  the  community  shall  deliberate,  urge  their 
respective  opinions,  and  give  their  votes ;  and  this  on  the 
ground  that  the  interests  of  the  State  and  its  concerns  are  the 
interests  of  such  individual  members.  All  this  is  very  well ; 
but  the  essential  condition^ and  distinction  in  regard  to  various 
phases  of  Democracy  is :  What  is  the  character  of  these  individ- 
ual members  ?  They  are  absolutely  authorized  to  assume  their 
position,  only  in  as  far  as  their  will  is  still  Objective  Will — not 
one  that  wishes  this  or  that,  not  mere  "  good  "  will.  For  good 
will  is  something  particular — rests  on  the  morality  of  individ- 
uals, on  their  conviction  and  subjective  feeling.  That  very  sub- 
jective Freedom  which  constitutes  the  principle  and  determines 
the  peculiar  form  of  Freedom  in  our  world — which  forms  the 
absolute  basis  of  our  political  and  religious  life,  could  not  mani- 
fest itself  in  Greece  otherwise  than  as  a  destructive  element. 
Subjectivity  was  a  grade  not  greatly  in  advance  of  that  occu- 


THE  GREEK  WORLD 


253 


pied  by  the  Greek  Spirit;  that  phase  must  of  necessity  soon 
be  attained :  but  it  plunged  the  Greek  world  into  ruin,  for  the 
polity  which  that  world  embodied  was  not  calculated  for  this 
side  of  humanity — did  not  recognize  this  phase;  since  it  had 
not  made  its  appearance  when  that  polity  began  to  exist.  Of 
the  Greeks  in  the  first  and  genuine  form  of  their  Freedom,  we 
may  assert,  that  they  had  no  conscience;  the  habit  of  living 
for  their  country  without  further  [analysis  or]  reflection,  was 
the  principle  dominant  among  them.  The  consideration  of  the 
State  in  the  abstract — which  to  our  understanding  is  the  essen- 
tial point — was  alien  to  them.  Their  grand  object  was  their 
country  in  its  living  and  real  aspect; — this  actual  Athens,  this 
Sparta,  these  Temples,  these  Altars,  this  form  of  social  life,  this 
union  of  fellow-citizens,  these  manners  and  customs.  To  the 
Greek  his  country  was  a  necessary  of  life,  without  which  exist- 
ence was  impossible.  It  was  the  Sophists — the  "  Teachers  of 
Wisdom  " — who  first  introduced  subjective  reflection,  and  the 
new  doctrine  that  each  man  should  act  according  to  his  own  con- 
viction. When  reflection  once  comes  into  play,  the  inquiry  is 
started  whether  the  Principles  of  Law  (das  Recht)  cannot  be 
improved.  Instead  of  holding  by  the  existing  state  of  things, 
internal  conviction  is  relied  upon ;  and  thus  begins  a  subjective 
independent  Freedom,  in  which  the  individual  finds  himself  in 
a  position  to  bring  everything  to  the  test  of  his  own  conscience, 
even  in  defiance  of  the  existing  constitution.  Each  one  has 
his  "  principles,"  and  that  view  which  accords  with  his  private 
judgment  he  regards  as  practically  the  best,  and  as  claiming 
practical  realization.  This  decay  even  Thucydides  notices, 
when  he  speaks  of  every  one's  thinking  that  things  are  going 
on  badly  when  he  has  not  a  hand  in  the  management. 

To  this  state  of  things — in  which  every  one  presumes  to  have 
a  judgment  of  his  own — confidence  in  Great  Men  is  antagonis- 
tic. When,  in  earlier  times,  the  Athenians  commission  Solon  to 
legislate  for  them,  or  when  Lycurgus  appears  at  Sparta  as  law- 
giver and  regulator  of  the  State,  it  is  evidently  not  supposed 
that  the  people  in  general  think  that  they  know  best  what  is 
politically  right.  At  a  later  time  also,  it  was  distinguished  per- 
sonages of  plastic  genius  in  whom  the  people  placed  their  con- 
fidence :  Cleisthenes,  e.g.  who  made  the  constitution  still  more 
democratic  than  it  had  been — Miltiades,  Themistocles,  Aris- 
tides,  and  Cimon,  who  in  the  Median  wars  stand  at  the  head  of 


254  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

Athenian  affairs — and  Pericles,  in  whom  Athenian  glory  cen- 
tres as  in  its  focus.  But  as  soon  as  any  of  these  great  men  had 
performed  what  was  needed,  envy  intruded — i.e.  the  recoil  of 
the  sentiment  of  equality  against  conspicuous  talent — and  he 
was  either  imprisoned  or  exiled.  Finally,  the  Sycophants  arose 
among  the  people,  aspersing  all  individual  greatness,  and  revil- 
ing those  who  took  the  lead  in  public  affairs. 

But  there  are  three  other  points  in  the  condition  of  the  Greek 
republics  that  must  be  particularly  observed. 

i.  With  Democracy  in  that  form  in  which  alone  it  existed  in 
Greece,  Oracles  are  intimately  connected.  To  an  independent 
resolve,  a  consolidated  Subjectivity  of  the  Will  (in  which  the 
latter  is  determined  by  preponderating  reasons)  is  absolutely 
indispensable ;  but  the  Greeks  had  not  this  element  of  strength 
and  vigor  in  their  volition.  When  a  colony  was  to  be  founded, 
when  it  was  proposed  to  adopt  the  worship  of  foreign  deities, 
or  when  a  general  was  about  to  give  battle  to  the  enemy,  the 
oracles  were  consulted.  Before  the  battle  of  Plataea,  Pausanias 
took  care  that  an  augury  should  be  taken  from  the  animals 
offered  in  sacrifice,  and  was  informed  by  the  soothsayer  Tisam- 
enus  that  the  sacrifices  were  favorable  to  the  Greeks  provided 
they  remained  on  the  hither  side  of  the  Asopus,  but  the  con- 
trary, if  they  crossed  the  stream  and  began  the  battle.  Pau- 
sanias, therefore,  awaited  the  attack.  In  their  private  affairs, 
too,  the  Greeks  came  to  a  determination  not  so  much  from  sub- 
jective conviction  as  from  some  extraneous  suggestion.  With 
the  advance  of  democracy  we  observe  the  oracles  no  longer  con- 
sulted on  the  most  important  matters,  but  the  particular  views 
of  popular  orators  influencing  and  deciding  the  policy  of  the 
State.  As  at  this  time  Socrates  relied  upon  his  "  Daemon,"  so 
the  popular  leaders  and  the  people  relied  on  their  individual 
convictions  in  forming  their  decisions.  But  contemporaneously 
with  this  were  introduced  corruption,  disorder,  and  an  unin- 
termitted  process  of  change  in  the  constitution. 

2.  Another  circumstance  that  demands  special  attention  here, 
is  the  element  of  Slavery.  This  was  a  necessary  condition  oi 
an  aesthetic  democracy,  where  it  was  the  right  and  duty  of  every 
citizen  to  deliver  or  to  listen  to  orations  respecting  the  man- 
agement of  the  State  in  the  place  of  public  assembly,  to  take  part 
in  the  exercise  of  the  Gymnasia,  and  to  join  in  the  celebration 
of  festivals.    It  was  a  necessary  condition  of  such  occupations, 


THE   GREEK   WORLD  255 

that  the  citizens  should  be  freed  from  handicraft  occupations ; 
consequently,  that  what  among  us  is  performed  by  free  citizens 
— the  work  of  daily  life — should  be  done  by  slaves.  Slavery 
does  not  cease  until  the  Will  has  been  infinitely  self-reflected  * 
— until  Right  is  conceived  as  appertaining  to  every  freeman, 
and  the  term  freeman  is  regarded  as  a  synonym  for  man  in  his 
generic  nature  as  endowed  with  Reason.  But  here  we  still  oc- 
cupy the  standpoint  of  Morality  as  mere  Wont  and  Custom, 
and  therefore  known  only  as  a  peculiarity  attaching  to  a  cer- 
tain kind  of  existence  [not  as  absolute  and  universal  Law]. 

3.  It  must  also  be  remarked,  thirdly,  that  such  democratic 
constitutions  are  possible  only  in  small  states — states  which  do 
not  much  exceed  the  compass  of  cities.  The  whole  Polis  of 
the  Athenians  is  united  in  the  one  city  of  Athens.  Tradition 
tells  that  Theseus  united  the  scattered  Demes  into  an  integral 
totality.  In  the  time  of  Pericles,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian  War,  when  the  Spartans  were  marching  upon  Attica, 
its  entire  population  took  refuge  in  the  city.  Only  in  such  cities 
can  the  interests  of  all  be  similar ;  in  large  empires,  on  the  con- 
trary, diverse  and  conflicting  interests  are  sure  to  present  them- 
selves. The  living  together  in  one  city,  the  fact  that  the  in- 
habitants see  each  other  daily,  render  a  common  culture  and  a 
living  democratic  polity  possible.  In  Democracy,  the  main 
point  is  that  the  character  of  the  citizen  be  plastic,  all  "  of  a 
piece."  He  must  be  present  at  the  critical  stages  of  public  busi- 
ness ;  he  must  take  part  in  decisive  crises  with  his  entire  per- 
sonality— not  with  his  vote  merely;  he  must  mingle  in  the 
heat  of  action — the  passion  and  interest  of  the  whole  man  being 
absorbed  in  the  affair,  and  the  warmth  with  which  a  resolve  was 
made  being  equally  ardent  during  its  execution.  That  unity  of 
opinion  to  which  the  whole  community  must  be  brought  [when 
any  political  step  is  to  be  taken,]  must  be  produced  in  the  indi- 
vidual members  of  the  state  by  oratorical  suasion.  If  this  were 
attempted  by  writing — in  an  abstract,  lifeless  way — no  general 
fervor  would  be  excited  among  the  social  units ;  and  the  greater 
the  number,  the  less  weight  would  each  individual  vote  have. 
In  a  large  empire  a  general  inquiry  might  be  made,  votes  might 
be  gathered  in  the  several  communities,  and  the  results  reck- 
oned up — as  was  done  by  the  French  Convention.  But  a  po- 
litical existence  of  this  kind  is  destitute  of  life,  and  the  World 

*  That  is— the  Objective  and  the  Subjective  Will  must  be  harmonized.— Ed. 


256  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

is  ipso  facto  broken  into  fragments  and  dissipated  into  a  mere 
Paper-world.  In  the  French  Revolution,  therefore,  the  repub- 
lican constitution  never  actually  became  a  Democracy:  Tyr- 
anny, Despotism,  raised  its  voice  under  the  mask  of  Freedom 
and  Equality. 

We  come  now  to  the  Second  Period  of  Greek  History.  The 
first  period  saw  the  Greek  Spirit  attain  its  aesthetic  development 
and  reach  maturity — realize  its  essential  being.  The  second 
shows  it  manifesting  itself — exhibits  it  in  its  full  glory  as  pro- 
ducing a  work  for  the  world,  asserting  its  principle  in  the 
struggle  with  an  antagonistic  force,  and  triumphantly  main* 
taining  it  against  that  attack. 

The  Wars  with  the  Persians 

The  period  of  contact  with  the  preceding  World-Historical 
people,  is  generally  to  be  regarded  as  the  second  in  the  history 
of  any  nation.  The  World-Historical  contact  of  the  Greeks 
was  with  the  Persians;  in  that,  Greece  exhibited  itself  in  its 
most  glorious  aspect.  The  occasion  of  the  Median  wars  was  the 
revolt  of  the  Ionian  cities  against  the  Persians,  in  which  the 
Athenians  and  Eretrians  assisted  them.  That  which,  in  par- 
ticular, induced  the  Athenians  to  take  their  part,  was  the  cir- 
cumstance that  the  son  of  Pisistratus,  after  his  attempts  to  re- 
gain sovereignty  in  Athens  had  failed  in  Greece,  had  betaken 
himself  to  the  King  of  the  Persians.  The  Father  of  History  has 
given  us  a  brilliant  description  of  these  Median  wars,  and  for 
the  object  we  are  now  pursuing  we  need  not  dwell  long  upon 
them. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  Median  wars,  Lacedaemon  was  in 
possession  of  the  Hegemony,  partly  as  the  result  of  having  sub- 
jugated and  enslaved  the  free  nation  of  the  Messenians,  partly 
because  it  had  assisted  many  Greek  states  to  expel  their  Ty- 
rants. Provoked  by  the  part  the  Greeks  had  taken  in  assisting 
the  Ionians  against  him,  the  Persian  King  sent  heralds  to  the 
Greek  cities  to  require  them  to  give  Water  and  Earth,  i.e.  to 
acknowledge  his  supremacy.  The  Persian  envoys  were  con- 
temptuously sent  back,  and  the  Lacedaemonians  went  so  far 
as  to  throw  them  into  a  well — a  deed,  however,  of  which  they 
afterwards  so  deeply  repented,  as  to  send  two  Lacedaemonians 
to  Susa  in  expiation.  The  Persian  King  then  despatched  an 
army  to  invade  Greece.     With  its  vastly  superior  force  the 


THE   GREEK   WORLD  257 

Athenians  and  Platgeans,  without  aid  from  their  compatriots, 
contended  at  Marathon  under  Miltiades,  and  gained  the  victory. 
Afterwards,  Xerxes  came  down  upon  Greece  with  his  enormous 
masses  of  nations  (Herodotus  gives  a  detailed  description  of 
this  expedition)  ;  and  with  the  terrible  array  of  land-forces  was 
associated  the  not  less  formidable  fleet.  Thrace,  Macedon,  and 
Thessaly  were  soon  subjugated ;  but  the  entrance  into  Greece 
Proper — the  Pass  of  Thermopylae — was  defended  by  three  hun- 
dred Spartans  and  seven  hundred  Thespians,  whose  fate  is  well 
known.  Athens,  voluntarily  deserted  by  its  inhabitants,  was 
ravaged ;  the  images  of  the  gods  which  it  contained  were  "  an 
abomination  "  to  the  Persians,  who  worshipped  the  Amorphous, 
the  Unformed.  In  spite  of  the  disunion  of  the  Greeks,  the  Per- 
sian fleet  was  beaten  at  Salamis ;  and  this  glorious  battle-day 
presents  the  three  greatest  tragedians  of  Greece  in  remarkable 
chronological  association :  for  ^Eschylus  was  one  of  the  com- 
batants, and  helped  to  gain  the  victory,  Sophocles  danced  at 
the  festival  that  celebrated  it,  and  on  the  same  day  Euripides 
was  born.  The  host  that  remained  in  Greece,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Mardonius,  was  beaten  at  Plataea  by  Pausanias,  and  the 
Persian  power  was  consequently  broken  at  various  points. 

Thus  was  Greece  freed  from  the  pressure  which  threatened  to 
overwhelm  it.  Greater  battles,  unquestionably,  have  been 
fought ;  but  these  live  immortal  not  in  the  historical  records  of 
Nations  only,  but  also  of  Science  and  of  Art — of  the  Noble  and 
the  Moral  generally.  For  these  are  World-Historical  victories ; 
they  were  the  salvation  of  culture  and  Spiritual  vigor,  and  they 
rendered  the  Asiatic  principle  powerless.  How  often,  on  other 
occasions,  have  not  men  sacrificed  everything  for  one  grand 
object !  How  often  have  not  warriors  fallen  for  Duty  and  Coun- 
try! But  here  we  are  called  to  admire  not  only  valor,  genius 
and  spirit,  but  the  purport  of  the  contest — the  effect,  the  result, 
which  are  unique  in  their  kind.  In  all  other  battles  a  particular 
interest  is  predominant ;  but  the  immortal  fame  of  the  Greeks 
is  none  other  than  their  due,  in  consideration  of  the  noble  cause 
for  which  deliverance  was  achieved.  In  the  history  of  the  world 
it  is  not  the  formal  [subjective  and  individual]  valor  that  has 
been  displayed,  not  the  so-called  merit  of  the  combatants,  but 
the  importance  of  the  cause  itself,  that  must  decide  the  fame  of 
the  achievement.  In  the  case  before  us,  the  interest  of  the 
(World's  History  hung  trembling  in  the  balance.    Oriental  des- 


258  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

potism — a  world  united  under  one  lord  and  sovereign — on  the 
one  side,  and  separate  states — insignificant  in  extent  and  re- 
sources, but  animated  by  free  individuality — on  the  other  side, 
stood  front  to  front  in  array  of  battle.  Never  in  History  has  the 
superiority  of  spiritual  power  over  material  bulk — and  that  of 
no  contemptible  amount — been  made  so  gloriously  manifest. 
This  war,  and  the  subsequent  development  of  the  states  which 
took  the  lead  in  it,  is  the  most  brilliant  period  of  Greece.  Every- 
thing which  the  Greek  principle  involved,  then  reached  its  per- 
fect bloom  and  came  into  the  light  of  day. 

The  Athenians  continued  their  wars  of  conquest  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  and  thereby  attained  a  high  degree  of  prosperity ; 
while  the  Lacedaemonians,  who  had  no  naval  power,  remained 
quiet.  The  antagonism  of  Athens  and  Sparta  now  commences 
— a  favorite  theme  for  historical  treatment.  It  may  be  asserted 
that  it  is  an  idle  inquiry,  which  of  these  two  states  justly  claims 
the  superiority,  and  that  the  endeavor  should  rather  be,  to 
exhibit  each  as  in  its  own  department  a  necessary  and  worthy 
phase  of  the  Greek  Spirit.  On  Sparta's  behalf,  e.g.  many  cate- 
gories may  be  referred  to  in  which  she  displays  excellence; 
strictness  in  point  of  morals,  subjection  to  discipline,  etc.,  may 
be  advantageously  cited.  But  the  leading  principle  chat  charac- 
terizes this  state  is  Political  Virtue,  which  Athens  and  Sparta 
have,  indeed,  in  common,  but  which  in  the  one  state  developed 
itself  to  a  work  of  Art,  viz.,  Free  Individuality — in  the  other 
retained  its  substantial  form.  Before  we  speak  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesian  War,  in  which  the  jealousy  of  Sparta  and  Athens  broke 
out  into  a  flame,  we  must  exhibit  more  specifically  the  funda- 
mental character  of  the  two  states — their  distinctions  in  a  po- 
litical and  moral  respect. 

'  Athens 

We  have  already  become  acquainted  with  Athens  as  an 
asylum  for  the  inhabitants  of  the  other  districts  of  Greece,  in 
which  a  very  mixed  population  was  congregated.  The  various 
branches  of  human  industry — agriculture,  handicraft,  and  trade 
(especially  by  sea) — were  united  in  Athens,  but  gave  occasion 
to  much  dissension.  An  antagonism  had  early  arisen  between 
ancient  and  wealthy  families  and  such  as  were  poorer.  Three 
parties,  whose  distinction  had  been  grounded  on  their  local 
position  and  the  mode  of  life  which  that  position  suggested, 


THE  GREEK  WORLD  259 

were  then  fully  recognized.  These  were,  the  Pediseans — in- 
habitants of  the  plain,  the  rich  and  aristocratic ;  the  Diacrians — 
mountaineers,  cultivators  of  the  vine  and  olive,  and  herdsmen, 
who  were  the  most  numerous  class ;  and  between  the  two  [in 
political  status  and  sentiment]  the  Paralians — inhabitants  of 
the  coast,  the  moderate  party.  The  polity  of  the  state  was 
wavering  between  Aristocracy  and  Democracy.  Solon  effected, 
by  his  division  into  four  property-classes,  a  medium  between 
these  opposites.  All  these  together  formed  the  popular  assem- 
bly for  deliberation  and  decision  on  public  affairs;  but  the 
offices  of  government  were  reserved  for  the  three  superior 
classes.  It  is  remarkable  that  even  while  Solon  was  still  living 
and  actually  present,  and  in  spite  of  his  opposition,  Pisistratus 
acquired  supremacy.  The  constitution  had,  as  it  were,  not  yet 
entered  into  the  blood  and  life  of  the  community ;  it  had  not 
yet  become  the  habit  of  moral  and  civil  existence.  But  it  is  still 
more  remarkable  that  Pisistratus  introduced  no  legislative 
changes,  and  that  he  presented  himself  before  the  Areopagus  to 
answer  an  accusation  brought  against  him.  The  rule  of  Pisis- 
tratus and  of  his  sons  appears  to  have  been  needed  for  repress- 
ing the  power  of  great  families  and  factions — for  accustoming 
them  to  order  and  peace,  and  the  citizens  generally,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  the  Solonian  legislation.  This  being  accomplished, 
that  rule  was  necessarily  regarded  as  superfluous,  and  the  prin- 
ciples of  a  free  code  enter  into  conflict  with  the  power  of  the 
Pisistratidae.  The  Pisistratidae  were  expelled,  Hipparchus 
killed,  and  Hippias  banished.  Then  factions  were  revived ;  the 
Alcmaeonidse,  who  took  the  lead  in  the  insurrection,  favored 
Democracy ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  Spartans  aided  the  adverse 
party  of  Isagoras,  which  followed  the  aristocratic  direction. 
The  Alcmseonidse,  with  Cleisthenes  at  their  head,  kept  the  upper 
hand.  This  leader  made  the  constitution  still  more  democratic 
than  it  had  been ;  the  fyvkai,  of  which  hitherto  there  had  been 
only  four,  were  increased  to  ten,  and  this  had  the  effect  of  dimin- 
ishing the  influence  of  the  clans.  Lastly,  Pericles  rendered  the 
constitution  yet  more  democratic  by  diminishing  the  essential 
dignity  of  the  Areopagus,  and  bringing  causes  that  had  hitherto 
belonged  to  it,  before  the  Demos  and  the  [ordinary]  tribunals. 
Pericles  was  a  statesman  of  plastic  *  antique  character :  when 

* "  Plastic,"  intimating  his  absolute  diffused  as  a  vitalizing  and  formative 
devotion  to  statesmanship ;  the  latter  not  power  through  the  whole  man.  The 
being  a  mere  mechanical  addition,   but        same  term  is  used  below  to  distinguish 


26o  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

he  devoted  himself  to  public  life,  he  renounced  private  life, 
withdrew  from  all  feasts  and  banquets,  and  pursued  without 
intermission  his  aim  of  being  useful  to  the  state — a  course  of 
conduct  by  which  he  attained  such  an  exalted  position,  that 
Aristophanes  calls  him  the  Zeus  of  Athens.  We  cannot  but  ad- 
mire him  in  the  highest  degree :  he  stood  at  the  head  of  a  light- 
minded  but  highly  refined  and  cultivated  people ;  the  only 
means  by  which  he  could  obtain  influence  and  authority  over 
them,  was  his  personal  character  and  the  impression  he  pro- 
duced of  his  being  a  thoroughly  noble  man,  exclusively  intent 
upon  the  weal  of  the  State,  and  of  superiority  to  his  fellow-citi- 
zens in  native  genius  and  acquired  knowledge.  In  force  of 
individual  character  no  statesman  can  be  compared  with  him. 

As  a  general  principle,  the  Democratic  Constitution  affords 
the  widest  scope  for  the  development  of  great  political  charac- 
ters ;  for  it  excels  all  others  in  virtue  of  the  fact  that  it  not  only 
allows  of  the  display  of  their  powers  on  the  part  of  individuals, 
but  summons  them  to  use  those  powers  for  the  general  weal.  At 
the  same  time,  no  member  of  the  community  can  obtain  influ- 
ence unless  he  has  the  power  of  satisfying  the  intellect  and  judg- 
ment, as  well  as  the  passions  and  volatility  of  a  cultivated 
people. 

In  Athens  a  vital  freedom  existed,  and  a  vital  equality  of  man- 
ners and  mental  culture;  and  if  inequality  of  property  could 
not  be  avoided,  it  nevertheless  did  not  reach  an  extreme.  To- 
gether with  this  equality,  and  within  the  compass  of  this  freedom, 
all  diversities  of  character  and  talent,  and  all  variety  of  idiosyn- 
crasy could  assert  themselves  in  the  most  unrestrained  manner, 
and  find  the  most  abundant  stimulus  to  development  in  its  en- 
vironment ;  for  the  predominant  elements  of  Athenian  existence 
were  the  independence  of  the  social  units,  and  a  culture  ani- 
mated by  the  Spirit  of  Beauty.  It  was  Pericles  who  originated 
the  production  of  those  eternal  monuments  of  sculpture  whose 
scanty  remains  astonish  posterity ;  it  was  before  this  people 
that  the  dramas  oF^Eschylus  and  Sophocles  were  performed ; 
and  later  on  those  of  Euripides — which,  however,  do  not  exhibit 
the  same  plastic  moral  character,  and  in  which  the  principle  of 
corruption  is  more  manifest.  To  this  people  were  addressed  the 
orations  of  Pericles  :  from  it  sprung  a  band  of  men  whose  genius 

the  vitalizing  morality  that  pervades  the  from  the  abstract  sentimentalities  of  Eu« 
dramas    of    yEschylus    and    Sophocles,       ripides. — Ed. 


THE   GREEK   WORLD  261 

has  become  classical  for  all  centuries ;  for  to  this  number  be- 
long, besides  those  already  named,  Thucydides,  Socrates,  Plato, 
and  Aristophanes — the  last  of  whom  preserved  entire  the  po- 
litical seriousness  of  his  people  at  the  time  when  it  was  being 
corrupted ;  and  who,  imbued  with  this  seriousness,  wrote  and 
dramatized  with  a  view  to  his  country's  weal.  We  recognize 
in  the  Athenians  great  industry,  susceptibility  to  excitement, 
and  development  of  individuality  within  the  sphere  of  Spirit 
conditioned  by  the  morality  of  Custom.  The  blame  with  which 
we  find  them  visited  in  Xenophon  and  Plato,  attaches  rather  to 
that  later  period  when  misfortune  and  the  corruption  of  the 
democracy  had  already  supervened.  But  if  we  would  have  the 
verdict  of  the  Ancients  on  the  political  life  of  Athens,  we  must 
turn,  not  to  Xenophon,  nor  even  to  Plato,  but  to  those  who  had 
a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  state  in  its  full  vigor — who 
managed  its  affairs  and  have  been  esteemed  its  greatest  leaders 
— i.e.,  to  its  Statesmen.  Among  these,  Pericles  is  the  Zeus  of 
the  human  Pantheon  of  Athens.  Thucydides  puts  into  his 
mouth  the  most  profound  description  of  Athenian  life,  on  the 
occasion  of  the  funeral  obsequies  of  the  warriors  who  fell  in  the 
second  year  of  the  Peloponnesian  War.  He  proposes  to  show 
for  what  a  city  and  in  support  of  what  interests  they  had  died ; 
and  this  leads  the  speaker  directly  to  the  essential  elements  of 
the  Athenian  community.  He  goes  on  to  paint  the  character 
of  Athens,  and  what  he  says  is  most  profoundly  thoughtful,  as 
well  as  most  just  and  true.  "  We  love  the  beautiful,"  he  says, 
"  but  without  ostentation  or  extravagance ;  we  philosophize 
without  being  seduced  thereby  into  effeminacy  and  inactivity 
(for  when  men  give  themselves  up  to  Thought,  they  get  further 
and  further  from  the  Practical — from  activity  for  the  public, 
for  the  common  weal).  We  are  bold  and  daring;  but  this 
courageous  energy  in  action  does  not  prevent  us  from  giving 
ourselves  an  account  of  what  we  undertake  (we  have  a  clear 
consciousness  respecting  it) ;  among  other  nations,  on  the  con- 
trary, martial  daring  has  its  basis  in  deficiency  of  culture :  we 
know  best  how  to  distinguish  between  the  agreeable  and  the 
irksome ;  notwithstanding  which,  we  do  not  shrink  from  perils." 
Thus  Athens  exhibited  the  spectacle  of  a  state  whose  existence 
was  essentially  directed  to  realizing  the  Beautiful,  which  had  a 
thoroughly  cultivated  consciousness  respecting  the  serious  side 
of  public  affairs  and  the  interests  of  Man's  Spirit  and  Life,  and 


262  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

united  with  that  consciousness,  hardy  courage  and  practical 
ability. 

Sparta 

Here  we  witness  on  the  other  hand  rigid  abstract  virtue — a 
life  devoted  to  the  State,  but  in  which  the  activity  and  freedom 
of  individuality  are  put  in  the  background.  The  polity  of  Sparta 
is  based  on  institutions  which  do  full  justice  to  the  interest  of  the 
State,  but  whose  object  is  a  lifeless  equality — not  free  move- 
ment. The  very  first  steps  in  Spartan  History  are  very  different 
from  the  early  stages  of  Athenian  development.  The  Spartans 
were  Dorians — the  Athenians,  Ionians ;  and  this  national  dis- 
tinction has  an  influence  on  their  Constitution  also.  In  refer- 
ence to  the  mode  in  which  the  Spartan  State  originated,  we 
observe  that  the  Dorians  invaded  the  Peloponnesus  with  the 
Heracleidse,  subdued  the  indigenous  tribes,  and  condemned 
them  to  slavery;  for  the  Helots  were  doubtless  aborigines. 
The  fate  that  had  befallen  the  Helots  was  suffered  at  a  later 
epoch  by  the  Messenians;  for  inhuman  severity  of  this  order 
was  innate  in  Spartan  character.  While  the  Athenians  had  a 
family-life,  and  slaves  among  them  were  inmates  of  the  house, 
the  relation  of  the  Spartans  to  the  subjugated  race  was  one  of 
even  greater  harshness  than  that  of  the  Turks  to  the  Greeks ;  a 
state  of  warfare  was  constantly  kept  up  in  Lacedasmon.  In 
entering  upon  office,  the  Ephors  made  an  unreserved  declara- 
tion of  war  against  the  Helots,  and  the  latter  were  habitually 
given  up  to  the  younger  Spartans  to  be  practised  upon  in  their 
martial  exercises.  The  Helots  were  on  some  occasions  set 
free,  and  fought  against  the  enemy ;  moreover,  they  displayed 
extraordinary  valor  in  the  ranks  of  the  Spartans ;  but  on  their 
return  they  were  butchered  in  the  most  cowardly  and  insidious 
way.  As  in  a  slave-ship  the  crew  are  constantly  armed,  and 
the  greatest  care  is  taken  to  prevent  an  insurrection,  so  the 
Spartans  exercised  a  constant  vigilance  over  the  Helots,  and 
were  always  in  a  condition  of  war,  as  against  enemies. 

Property  in  land  was  divided,  even  according  to  the  consti- 
tution of  Lycurgus  (as  Plutarch  relates),  into  equal  parts,  of 
which  9,000  only  belonged  to  the  Spartans — i.e.,  the  inhabitants 
of  the  city — and  30,000  to  the  Lacedaemonians  or  Periaeci.  At 
the  same  time  it  was  appointed,  in  order  to  maintain  this  equal- 
ity, that  the  portions  of  ground  should  not  be  sold.  But  how 
little  such  an  institution  avails  to  effect  its  object,  is  proved  by 


THE  GREEK  WORLD  263 

the  fact,  that  in  the  sequel  Lacedsemon  owed  its  ruin  chiefly  to 
the  inequality  of  possessions.  As  daughters  were  capable  of 
inheriting,  many  estates  had  come  by  marriage  into  the  posses- 
sion of  a  few  families,  and  at  last  all  the  landed  property  was  in 
the  hands  of  a  limited  number ;  as  if  to  show  how  foolish  it  is 
to  attempt  a  forced  equality — an  attempt  which,  while  ineffec- 
tive in  realizing  its  professed  object,  is  also  destructive  of  a 
most  essential  point  of  liberty — the  free  disposition  of  property. 
Another  remarkable  feature  in  the  legislation  of  Lycurgus,  is 
his  forbidding  all  money  except  that  made  of  iron — an  enact- 
ment which  necessitated  the  abolition  of  all  foreign  business  and 
traffic.  The  Spartans  moreover  had  no  naval  force — a  force 
indispensable  to  the  support  and  furtherance  of  commerce; 
and  on  occasions  when  such  a  force  was  required,  they  had  to 
apply  to  the  Persians  for  it. 

It  was  with  an  especial  view  to  promote  similarity  of  man- 
ners, and  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  of  the  citizens  with  each 
other,  that  the  Spartans  had  meals  in  common — a  community, 
however,  which  disparaged  family  life ;  for  eating  and  drinking 
is  a  private  affair,  and  consequently  belongs  to  domestic  retire- 
ment. It  was  so  regarded  among  the  Athenians ;  with  them 
association  was  not  material  but  spiritual,  and  even  their  ban- 
quets, as  we  see  from  Xenophon  and  Plato,  had  an  intellectual 
tone.  Among  the  Spartans,  ori  the  other  hand,  the  costs  of  the 
common  meal  were  met  by  the  contributions  of  the  several 
members,  and  he  who  was  too  poor  to  offer  such  a  contribution 
was  consequently  excluded. 

As  to  the  Political  Constitution  of  Sparta,  its  basis  may  be 
called  democratic,  but  with  considerable  modifications  which 
rendered  it  almost  an  Aristocracy  and  Oligarchy.  At  the  head 
of  the  State  were  two  Kings,  at  whose  side  was  a  Senate 
(ryepovcta),  chosen  from  the  best  men  of  the  State,  and  which 
also  performed  the  functions  of  a  court  of  justice — deciding 
rather  in  accordance  with  moral  and  legal  customs,  than  with 
written  laws.*  The  <yepov<rla  was  also  the  highest  State-Council 
— the  Council  of  the  Kings,  regulating  the  most  important 
affairs.  Lastly,  one  of  the  highest  magistracies  was  that  of  the 
Ephors,  respecting  whose  election  we  have  no  definite  informa- 

*  Otfried   Miiller,  in  his  "  History  of  minds.     But  such  an  imprinting  is  al- 

the  Dorians,"  gives  too  dignified  an  as-  ways  something  indefinite;  laws  must  be 

pect  to  this  fact;   he  says  that  Justice  written,  that  it  may  be  distinctly  known 

was,    as    it    were,    imprinted    on    their  what  is  forbidden  and  what  is  allowed. 


264  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

tion ;  Aristotle  says  that  the  mode  of  choice  was  exceedingly 
childish.  We  learn  from  Aristotle  that  even  persons  without 
nobility  or  property  could  attain  this  dignity.  The  Ephors  had 
full  authority  to  convoke  popular  assemblies,  to  put  resolutions 
to  the  vote,  and  to  propose  laws,  almost  in  the  same  way  as  the 
tribuni  plebis  in  Rome.  Their  power  became  tyrannical,  like  that 
which  Robespierre  and  his  party  exercised  for  a  time  in  France. 
While  the  Lacedaemonians  directed  their  entire  attention  to 
the  State,  Intellectual  Culture — Art  and  Science — was  not 
domiciled  among  them.  The  Spartans  appeared  to  the  rest  of 
the  Greeks,  stiff,  coarse,  awkward  beings,  who  could  not  trans- 
act business  involving  any  degree  of  intricacy,  or  at  least  per- 
formed it  very  clumsily.  Thucydides  makes  the  Athenians  say 
to  the  Spartans :  "  You  have  laws  and  customs  which  have  noth- 
ing in  common  with  others ;  and  besides  this,  you  proceed, 
when  you  go  into  other  countries,  neither  in  accordance  with 
these,  nor  with  the  traditionary  usages  of  Hellas."  In  their 
intercourse  at  home,  they  were,  on  the  whole,  honorable ;  but 
as  regarded  their  conduct  towards  other  nations,  they  them- 
selves plainly  declared  that  they  held  their  own  good  pleasure 
for  the  Commendable,  and  what  was  advantageous  for  the 
Right.  It  is  well  known  that  in  Sparta  (as  was  also  the  case  in 
Egypt)  the  taking  away  of  the  necessaries  of  life,  under  certain 
conditions,  was  permitted ;  only  the  thief  must  not  allow  him- 
self to  be  discovered.  Thus  the  two  States,  Athens  and  Sparta, 
stand  in  contrast  with  each  other.  The  morality  of  the  latter 
is  rigidly  directed  to  the  maintenance  of  the  State ;  in  the 
former  we  find  a  similar  ethical  relation,  but  with  a  cultivated 
consciousness,  and  boundless  activity  in  the  production  of  the 
Beautiful — subsequently,  of  the  True  also. 

This  Greek  morality,  though  extremely  beautiful,  attrac- 
tive and  interesting  in  its  manifestation,  is  not  the  highest  point 
of  view  for  Spiritual  self-consciousness.  It  wants  the  form  of 
Infinity,  the  reflection  of  thought  within  itself,  the  emancipation 
from  the  Natural  element — (the  Sensuous  that  lurks  in  the  char- 
acter of  Beauty  and  Divinity  [as  comprehended  by  the  Greeks]) 
— and  from  that  immediacy,  [that  undeveloped  simplicity,] 
which  attaches  to  their  ethics.  Self-Comprehension  on  the  part 
of  Thought  is  wanting — illimitable  Self-Consciousness — de- 
manding, that  what  is  regarded  by  me  as  Right  and  Morality 
should  have  its  confirmation  in  myself — from  the  testimony  of 


THE  GREEK  WORLD  265 

my  own  Spirit ;  that  the  Beautiful  (the  Idea  as  manifested  in 
sensuous  contemplation  or  conception)  may  also  become  the 
True — an  inner,  supersensuous  world.  The  standpoint  occu- 
pied by  the  ^Esthetic  Spiritual  Unity  which  we  have  just  de- 
scribed, could  not  long  be  the  resting-place  of  Spirit;  and  the 
element  in  which  further  advance  and  corruption  originated, 
was  that  of  Subjectivity — inward  morality,  individual  reflection, 
and  an  inner  life  generally.  The  perfect  bloom  of  Greek  life 
lasted  only  about  sixty  years — from  the  Median  wars,  B.C.  492, 
to  the  Peloponnesian  War,  B.C.  431.  The  principle  of  subjective 
morality  which  was  inevitably  introduced,  became  the  germ  of 
corruption,  which,  however,  showed  itself  in  a  different  form  in 
Athens  from  that  which  it  assumed  in  Sparta:  in  Athens,  as 
levity  in  public  conduct,  in  Sparta,  as  private  depravation  of 
morals.  In  their  fall,  the  Athenians  showed  themselves  not  only 
amiable,  but  great  and  noble — to  such  a  degree  that  we  cannot 
but  lament  it ;  among  the  Spartans,  on  the  contrary,  the  prin- 
ciple of  subjectivity  develops  itself  in  vulgar  greed,  and  issues 
in  vulgar  ruin. 

The  Peloponnesian  War 

The  principle  of  corruption  displayed  itself  first  in  the  ex- 
ternal political  development — in  the  contest  of  the  states  of 
Greece  with  each  other,  and  the  struggle  of  factions  within  the 
cities  themselves.  The  Greek  Morality  had  made  Hellas  unfit 
to  form  one  common  state ;  for  the  dissociation  of  small  states 
from  each  other,  and  the  concentration  in  cities,  where  the  in- 
terest and  the  spiritual  culture  pervading  the  whole,  could  be 
identical,  was  the  necessary  condition  of  that  grade  of  Free- 
dom which  the  Greeks  occupied.  It  was  only  a  momentary 
combination  that  occurred  in  the  Trojan  War,  and  even  in  the 
Median  wars  a  union  could  not  be  accomplished.  Although  the 
tendency  towards  such  a  union  is  discoverable,  the  bond  was 
but  weak,  its  permanence  was  always  endangered  by  jealousy, 
and  the  contest  for  the  Hegemony  set  the  States  at  variance 
with  each  other.  A  general  outbreak  of  hostilities  in  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian War  was  the  consummation.  Before  it,  and  even  at 
its  commencement,  Pericles  was  at  the  head  of  the  Athenian 
nation — that  people  most  jealous  of  its  liberty ;  it  was  only  his 
elevated  personality  and  great  genius  that  enabled  him  to  main- 
tain his  position.  After  the  wars  with  the  Medes,  Athens  enjoyed 


266  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

the  Hegemony ;  a  number  of  allies — partly  islands,  partly  towns 
— were  obliged  to  contribute  to  the  supplies  required  for  con- 
tinuing the  war  against  the  Persians ;  and  instead  of  the  con- 
tribution being  made  in  the  form  of  fleets  or  troops,  the  subsidy 
was  paid  in  money.  Thereby  an  immense  power  was  concen- 
trated in  Athens ;  a  part  of  the  money  was  expended  in  great 
architectural  works,  in  the  enjoyment  of  which,  since  they  were 
products  of  Spirit,  the  allies  had  some  share.  But  that  Pericles 
did  not  devote  the  whole  of  the  money  to  works  of  Art,  but  also 
made  provision  for  the  Demos  in  other  ways,  was  evident  after 
his  death,  from  the  quantity  of  stores  amassed  in  several  maga- 
zines, but  especially  in  the  naval  arsenal.  Xenophon  says: 
"  Who  does  not  stand  in  need  of  Athens  ?  Is  she  not  indispen- 
sable to  all  lands  that  are  rich  in  corn  and  herds,  in  oil  and  wine 
— to  all  who  wish  to  traffic  either  in  money  or  in  mind? — to 
craftsmen,  sophists,  philosophers,  poets,  and  all  who  desire  what 
is  worth  seeing  or  hearing  in  sacred  and  public  matters  ?  " 

In  the  Peloponnesian  War,  the  struggle  was  essentially  be- 
tween Athens  and  Sparta.  Thucydides  has  left  us  the  history 
of  the  greater  part  of  it,  and  his  immortal  work  is  the  absolute 
gain  which  humanity  has  derived  from  that  contest.  Athens 
allowed  herself  to  be  hurried  into  the  extravagant  projects  of 
Alcibiades;  and  when  these  had  already  much  weakened  her, 
she  was  compelled  to  succumb  to  the  Spartans,  who  were  guilty 
of  the  treachery  of  applying  for  aid  to  Persia,  and  who  obtained 
from  the  King  supplies  of  money  and  a  naval  force.  They  were 
also  guilty  of  a  still  more  extensive  treason,  in  abolishing  de- 
mocracy in  Athens  and  in  the  cities  of  Greece  generally,  and  in 
giving  a  preponderance  to  factions  that  desired  oligarchy,  but 
were  not  strong  enough  to  maintain  themselves  without  foreign 
assistance.  Lastly,  in  the  peace  of  Antalcidas,  Sparta  put  the 
finishing  stroke  to  her  treachery,  by  giving  over  the  Greek 
cities  in  Asia  Minor  to  Persian  dominion. 

Lacedsemon  had  therefore,  both  by  the  oligarchies  which  it 
had  set  up  in  various  countries,  and  by  the  garrisons  which  it 
maintained  in  some  cities — as,  e.g.,  Thebes — obtained  a  great 
preponderance  in  Greece.  But  the  Greek  states  were  far  more 
incensed  at  Spartan  oppression  than  they  had  previously  been 
at  Athenian  supremacy.  With  Thebes  at  their  head,  they  cast 
off  the  yoke,  and  the  Thebans  became  for  a  moment  the  most 
distinguished  people  in  Hellas.    But  it  was  to  two  distinguished 


THE   GREEK   WORLD  267 

men  among  its  citizens  that  Thebes  owed  its  entire  power — 
Pelopidas  and  Epaminondas;  as  for  the  most  part  in  that  state 
we  find  the  Subjective  preponderant.  In  accordance  with  this 
principle,  Lyrical  Poetry — that  which  is  the  expression  of  sub- 
jectivity— especially  flourished  there;  a  kind  of  subjective 
amenity  of  nature  shows  itself  also  in  the  so-called  Sacred 
Legion  which  formed  the  kernel  of  the  Theban  host,  and  was 
regarded  as  consisting  of  persons  connected  by  amatory  bonds 
[amantes  and  amati]  ;  while  the  influence  of  subjectivity  among 
them  was  especially  proved  by  the  fact,  that  after  the  death  of 
Epaminondas,  Thebes  fell  back  into  its  former  position.  Weak- 
ened and  distracted,  Greece  could  no  longer  find  safety  in  itself, 
and  needed  an  authoritative  prop.  In  the  towns  there  were 
incessant  contests;  the  citizens  were  divided  into  factions,  as 
in  the  Italian  cities  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  victory  of  one 
party  entailed  the  banishment  of  the  other;  the  latter  then 
usually  applied  to  the  enemies  of  their  native  city,  to  obtain 
their  aid  in  subjugating  it  by  force  of  arms.  The  various  States 
could  no  longer  co-exist  peaceably:  they  prepared  ruin  for 
each  other,  as  well  as  for  themselves. 

We  have,  then,  now  to  investigate  the  corruption  of  the  Greek 
world  in  its  profounder  import,  and  may  denote  the  principle  of 
that  corruption  as  subjectivity  obtaining  emancipation  for  itself. 
We  see  Subjectivity  obtruding  itself  in  various  ways.  Thought 
— the  subjectively  Universal — menaces  the  beautiful  religion  of 
Greece,  while  the  passions  of  individuals  and  their  caprice  men- 
ace its  political  constitution.  In  short,  Subjectivity,  compre- 
hending and  manifesting  itself,  threatens  the  existing  state  of 
things  in  every  department — characterized  as  that  state  of 
things  is  by  Immediacy  [a  primitive,  unreflecting  simplicity]. 
Thought,  therefore,  appears  here  as  the  principle  of  decay — 
decay,  viz.  of  Substantial  [prescriptive]  morality ;  for  it  intro- 
duces an  antithesis,  and  asserts  essentially  rational  principles. 
In  the  Oriental  states,  in  which  there  is  no  such  antithesis, 
moral  freedom  cannot  be  realized,  since  the  highest  principle  is 
[Pure]  Abstraction.  But  when  Thought  recognizes  its  positive 
character,  as  in  Greece,  it  estabishes  principles;  and  these  bear 
to  the  real  world  the  relation  of  Essence  to  Form.  For  the 
concrete  vitality  found  among  the  Greeks,  is  Customary  Moral- 
ity— a  life  for  Religion,  for  the  State,  without  further  reflection, 
and  without  analysis  leading  to  abstract  definitions,  which  must 


268  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

lead  away  from  the  concrete  embodiment  of  them,  and  occupy 
an  antithetical  position  to  that  embodiment.  Law  is  part  of 
the  existing  state  of  things,  with  Spirit  implicit  in  it.  But  as  soon 
as  Thought  arises,  it  investigates  the  various  political  constitu- 
tions :  as  the  result  of  its  investigation  it  forms  for  itself  an 
idea  of  an  improved  state  of  society,  and  demands  that  this  ideal 
should  take  the  place  of  things  as  they  are. 

In  the  principle  of  Greek  Freedom,  inasmuch  as  it  is  Free- 
dom, is  involved  the  self-emancipation  of  Thought.  We  ob- 
served the  dawn  of  Thought  in  the  circle  of  men  mentioned 
above  under  their  well-known  appellation  of  the  Seven  Sages.  It 
was  they  who  first  uttered  general  propositions ;  though  at  that 
time  wisdom  consisted  rather  in  a  concrete  insight  [into  things, 
than  in  the  power  of  abstract  conception].  Parallel  with  the 
advance  in  the  development  of  Religious  Art  and  with  political 
growth,  we  find  a  progressive  strengthening  of  Thought,  its 
enemy  and  destroyer;  and  at  the  time  of  the  Peloponnesian 
War  science  was  already  developed.  With  the  Sophists  began 
the  process  of  reflection  on  the  existing  state  of  things,  and  of 
ratiocination.  That  very  diligence  and  activity  which  we  ob- 
served among  the  Greeks  in  their  practical  life,  and  in  the 
achievement  of  works  of  art,  showed  itself  also  in  the  turns  and 
windings  which  these  ideas  took ;  so  that,  as  material  things  are 
changed,  worked  up  and  used  for  other  than  their  original  pur- 
poses, similarly  the  essential  being  of  Spirit — what  is  thought 
and  known — is  variously  handled;  it  is  made  an  object  about 
which  the  mind  can  employ  itself,  and  this  occupation  becomes 
an  interest  in  and  for  itself.  The  movement  of  Thought — that 
which  goes  on  within  its  sphere  [without  reference  to  an  ex- 
trinsic object] — a  process  which  had  formerly  no  interest — ac- 
quires attractiveness  on  its  own  account.  The  cultivated  Soph' 
ists,  who  were  not  erudite  or  scientific  men,  but  masters  of  subtle 
turns  of  thought,  excited  the  admiration  of  the  Greeks.  For  all 
questions  they  had  an  answer ;  for  all  interests  of  a  political  or 
religious  order  they  had  general  points  of  view;  and  in  the 
ultimate  development  of  their  art,  they  claimed  the  ability  to 
prove  everything,  to  discover  a  justifiable  side  in  every  position. 
In  a  democracy  it  is  a  matter  of  the  first  importance,  to  be  able 
to  speak  in  popular  assemblies — to  urge  one's  opinions  on  pub- 
lic matters.  Now  this  demands  the  power  of  duly  presenting 
before  them  that  point  of  view  which  we  desire  them  to  regard 


THE   GREEK   WORLD  269 

as  essential.  For  such  a  purpose,  intellectual  culture  is  needed, 
and  this  discipline  the  Greeks  acquired  under  their  Sophists. 
This  mental  culture  then  became  the  means,  in  the  hands  of 
those  who  possessed  it,  of  enforcing  their  views  and  interests 
on  the  Demos :  the  expert  Sophist  knew  how  to  turn  the  sub- 
ject of  discussion  this  way  or  that  way  at  pleasure,  and  thus 
the  doors  were  thrown  wide  open  to  all  human  passions.  A 
leading  principle  of  the  Sophists  was,  that  "  Man  is  the  measure 
of  all  things  " ;  but  in  this,  as  in  all  their  apophthegms,  lurks  an 
ambiguity,  since  the  term  "  Man  "  may  denote  Spirit  in  its  depth 
and  truth,  or  in  the  aspect  of  mere  caprice  and  private  interest. 
The  Sophists  meant  Man  simply  as  subjective,  and  intended  in 
this  dictum  of  theirs,  that  mere  liking  was  the  principle  of 
Right,  and  that  advantage  to  the  individual  was  the  ground  of 
final  appeal.  This  Sophistic  principle  appears  again  and  again, 
though  under  different  forms,  in  various  periods  of  History; 
thus  even  in  our  own  times  subjective  opinion  of  what  is  right 
— mere  feeling — is  made  the  ultimate  ground  of  decision. 

In  Beauty,  as  the  Greek  principle,  there  was  a  concrete  unity 
of  Spirit,  united  with  Reality,  with  Country  and  Family,  etc.  In 
this  unity  no  fixed  point  of  view  had  as  yet  been  adopted  within 
the  Spirit  itself,  and  Thought,  as  far  as  it  transcended  this  unity, 
was  still  swayed  by  mere  liking ;  [the  Beautiful,  the  Becoming 
(to  Trpeirov)  conducted  men  in  the  path  of  moral  propriety,  but 
apart  from  this  they  had  no  firm  abstract  principle  of  Truth  and 
Virtue].  But  Anaxagoras  himself  had  taught,  that  Thought 
itself  was  the  absolute  Essence  of  the  World.  And  it  was  in 
Socrates,  that  at  the  beginning  of  the  Peloponnesian  War,  the 
principle  of  subjectivity — of  the  absolute  inherent  independence 
of  Thought — attained  free  expression.  He  taught  that  man  has 
to  discover  and  recognize  in  himself  what  is  the  Right  and 
Good,  and  that  this  Right  and  Good  is  in  its  nature  universal. 
Socrates  is  celebrated  as  a  Teacher  of  Morality,  but  we  should 
rather  call  him  the  Inventor  of  Morality.  The  Greeks  had  a 
customary  morality ;  but  Socrates  undertook  to  teach  them  what 
moral  virtues,  duties,  etc.  were.  The  moral  man  is  not  he  who 
merely  wills  and  does  that  which  is  right — not  the  merely  inno- 
cent man — but  he  who  has  the  consciousness  of  what  he  is 
doing. 

Socrates — in  assigning  to  insight,  to  conviction,  the  deter- 
mination of  men's  actions — posited  the  Individual  as  capable 


270  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

of  a  final  moral  decision,  in  contraposition  to  Country  and  to 
Customary  Morality,  and  thus  made  himself  an  Oracle,  in  the 
Greek  sense.  He  said  that  he  had  a  Bcujaoviov  within  him,  which 
counselled  him  what  to  do,  and  revealed  to  him  what  was  ad- 
vantageous to  his  friends.  The  rise  of  the  inner  world  of  Sub- 
jectivity was  the  rupture  with  the  existing  Reality.  Though 
Socrates  himself  continued  to  perform  his  duties  as  a  citizen, 
it  was  not  the  actual  State  and  its  religion,  but  the  world  of 
Thought  that  was  his  true  home.  Now  the  question  of  the  ex- 
istence and  nature  of  the  gods  came  to  be  discussed.  The  dis- 
ciple of  Socrates,  Plato,  banished  from  his  ideal  state,  Homer 
and  Hesiod,  the  originators  of  that  mode  of  conceiving  of  relig- 
ious objects  which  prevailed  among  the  Greeks ;  for  he  desid- 
erated a  higher  conception  of  what  was  to  be  reverenced  as 
divine — one  more  in  harmony  with  Thought.  Many  citizens 
now  seceded  from  practical  and  political  life,  to  live  in  the  ideal 
world.  The  principle  of  Socrates  manifests  a  revolutionary 
aspects  towards  the  Athenian  State ;  for  the  peculiarity  of  this 
State  was,  that  Customary  Morality  was  the  form  in  which  its 
existence  was  moulded,  viz. — an  inseparable  connection  of 
Thought  with  actual  life.  When  Socrates  wishes  to  induce  his 
friends  to  reflection,  the  discourse  has  always  a  negative  tone ; 
he  brings  them  to  the  consciousness  that  they  do  not  know 
what  the  Right  is.  But  when  on  account  of  the  giving  utterance 
to  that  principle  which  was  advancing  to  recognition,  Socrates 
is  condemned  to  death,  the  sentence  bears  on  the  one  hand  the 
aspect  of  unimpeachable  rectitude — inasmuch  as  the  Athenian 
people  condemns  its  deadliest  foe — but  on  the  other  hand,  that 
of  a  deeply  tragical  character,  inasmuch  as  the  Athenians  had  to 
make  the  discovery,  that  what  they  reprobated  in  Socrates  had 
already  struck  firm  root  among  themselves,  and  that  they  must 
be  pronounced  guilty  or  innocent  with  him.  With  this  feeling 
they  condemned  the  accusers  of  Socrates,  and  declared  him 
guiltless.  In  Athens  that  higher  principle  which  proved  the 
ruin  of  the  Athenian  state,  advanced  in  its  development  without 
intermission.  Spirit  had  acquired  the  propensity  to  gain  sat- 
isfaction for  itself — to  reflect.  Even  in  decay  the  Spirit  of 
Athens  appears  majestic,  because  it  manifests  itself  as  the  free, 
the  liberal — exhibiting  its  successive  phases  in  their  pure 
idiosyncrasy — in  that  form  in  which  they  really  exist.  Amiable 
and  cheerful  even  in  the  midst  of  tragedy  is  the  light-hearted- 


THE   GREEK   WORLD  271 

ness  and  nonchalance  with  which  the  Athenians  accompany 
their  [national]  morality  to  its  grave.  We  recognize  the  higher 
interest  of  the  new  culture  in  the  fact  that  the  people  made  them- 
selves merry  over  their  own  follies,  and  found  great  entertain- 
ment in  the  comedies  of  Aristophanes,  which  have  the  severest 
satire  for  their  contents,  while  they  bear  the  stamp  of  the  most 
unbridled  mirth. 

In  Sparta  the  same  corruption  is  introduced,  since  the  social 
unit  seeks  to  assert  his  individuality  against  the  moral  life  of 
the  community :  but  there  we  have  merely  the  isolated  side  of 
particular  subjectivity — corruption  in  its  undisguised  form, 
blank  immorality,  vulgar  selfishness  and  venality.  All  these 
passions  manifest  themselves  in  Sparta,  especially  in  the  per- 
sons of  its  generals,  who,  for  the  most  part  living  at  a  distance 
from  their  country,  obtain  an  opportunity  of  securing  advan- 
tages at  the  expense  of  their  own  state  as  well  as  of  those  to 
whose  assistance  they  are  sent. 

The  Macedonian  Empire 

After  the  fall  of  Athens,  Sparta  took  upon  herself  the  Hege- 
mony; but  misused  it — as  already  mentioned — so  selfishly, 
that  she  was  universally  hated.  Thebes  could  not  long  sustain 
the  part  of  humiliating  Sparta,  and  was  at  last  exhausted  in  the 
war  with  the  Phocians.  The  Spartans  and  the  Phocians — ■ 
the  former  because  they  had  surprised  the  citadel  of  Thebes,  the 
latter  because  they  had  tilled  a  piece  of  land  belonging  to  the 
Delphin  Apollo — had  been  sentenced  to  pay  considerable  sums 
of  money.  Both  states  however  refused  payment ;  for  the  Am- 
phictyonic  Council  had  not  much  more  authority  than  the  old 
German  Diet,  which  the  German  princes  obeyed  only  so  far  as 
suited  their  inclination.  The  Phocians  were  then  to  be  pun- 
ished by  the  Thebans ;  but  by  an  egregious  piece  of  violence — 
by  desecrating  and  plundering  the  temple  at  Delphi — the  former 
attained  momentary  superiority.  This  deed  completes  the  ruin 
of  Greece ;  the  sanctuary  was  desecrated,  the  god  so  to  speak, 
killed ;  the  last  support  of  unity  was  thereby  annihilated ;  rev- 
erence for  that  which  in  Greece  had  been  as  it  were  always  the 
final  arbiter — its  monarchical  principle — was  displaced,  in- 
sulted, and  trodden  under  foot. 

The  next  step  in  advance  is  then  that  quite  simple  one,  that 
the  place  of  the  dethroned  oracle  should  be  taken  by  another 


873 


PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 


deciding  will — a  real  authoritative  royalty.  The  foreign  Mace- 
donian King — Philip — undertook  to  avenge  the  violation  of  the 
oracle,  and  forthwith  took  its  place,  by  making  himself  lord  of 
Greece.  Philip  reduced  under  his  dominion  the  Hellenic  States, 
and  convinced  them  that  it  was  all  over  with  their  independence, 
and  that  they  could  no  longer  maintain  their  own  footing.  The 
charge  of  littleness,  harshness,  violence,  and  political  treachery 
— all  those  hateful  characteristics  with  which  Philip  has  so  often 
been  reproached — did  not  extend  to  the  young  Alexander,  when 
he  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  Greeks.  He  had  no  need 
to  incur  such  reproaches ;  he  had  not  to  form  a  military  force, 
for  he  found  one  already  in  existence.  As  he  had  only  to  mount 
Bucephalus,  and  take  the  rein  in  hand,  to  make  him  obsequious 
to  his  will,  just  so  he  found  that  Macedonian  phalanx  prepared 
for  his  purpose — that  rigid  well-trained  iron  mass,  the  power 
of  which  had  been  demonstrated  under  Philip,  who  copied  it 
from  Epaminondas. 

Alexander  had  been  educated  by  the  deepest  and  also  the 
most  comprehensive  thinker  of  antiquity — Aristotle ;  and  the 
education  was  worthy  of  the  man  who  had  undertaken  it.  Alex- 
ander was  initiated  into  the  profoundest  metaphysics:  there- 
fore his  nature  was  thoroughly  refined  and  liberated  from  the 
customary  bonds  of  mere  opinion,  crudities  and  idle  fancies. 
Aristotle  left  this  grand  nature  as  untrammelled  as  it  was  before 
his  instructions  commenced ;  but  impressed  upon  it  a  deep  per- 
ception of  what  the  True  is,  and  formed  the  spirit  which  nature 
had  so  richly  endowed  to  a  plastic  being,  rolling  freely  like  an 
orb  through  its  circumambient  ether. 

Thus  accomplished,  Alexander  placed  himself  at  the  head  of 
the  Hellenes,  in  order  to  lead  Greece  over  into  Asia.  A  youth 
of  twenty,  he  commanded  a  thoroughly  experienced  army, 
whose  generals  were  all  veterans,  well  versed  in  the  art  of  war. 
It  was  Alexander's  aim  to  avenge  Greece  for  all  that  Asia  had 
inflicted  upon  it  for  so  many  years,  and  to  fight  out  at  last  the 
ancient  feud  and  contest  between  the  East  and  the  West.  While 
in  this  struggle  he  retaliated  upon  the  Oriental  world  what 
Greece  had  suffered  from  it,  he  also  made  a  return  for  the  rudi- 
ments of  culture  which  had  been  derived  thence  by  spreading 
the  maturity  and  culmination  of  that  culture  over  the  East; 
and,  as  it  were,  changed  the  stamp  of  subjugated  Asia  and 
assimilated  it  to  a  Hellenic  land.     The  grandeur  and  the  inter- 


THE  GREEK  WORLD  .    273 

est  of  this  work  were  proportioned  to  his  genius — to  his  pecu- 
liar youthful  individuality — the  like  of  which  in  so  beautiful  a 
form  we  have  not  seen  a  second  time  at  the  head  of  such  an 
undertaking.  For  not  only  were  the  genius  of  a  commander, 
the  greatest  spirit,  and  consummate  bravery  united  in  him,  but 
all  these  qualities  were  dignified  by  the  beauty  of  his  character 
as  a  man  and  an  individual.  Though  his  generals  were  devoted 
to  him,  they  had  been  the  long  tried  servants  of  his  father; 
and  this  made  his  position  difficult:  for  his  greatness  and 
youth  was  a  humiliation  to  them,  as  inclined  to  regard  them- 
selves and  the  achievements  of  the  past,  as  a  complete  work; 
so  that  while  their  envy,  as  in  Clitus's  case,  arose  to  blind  rage, 
Alexander  also  was  excited  to  great  violence. 

Alexander's  expedition  to  Asia  was  at  the  same  time  a  jour- 
ney of  discovery ;  for  it  was  he  who  first  opened  the  Oriental 
World  to  the  Europeans,  and  penetrated  into  countries — as 
e.g.  Bactria,  Sogdiana,  northern  India — which  have  since  been 
hardly  visited  by  Europeans.  The  arrangement  of  the  march, 
and  not  less  the  military  genius  displayed  in  the  disposition  of 
battles,  and  in  tactics  generally,  will  always  remain  an  object 
of  admiration.  He  was  great  as  a  commander  in  battles,  wise 
in  conducting  marches  and  marshalling  troops,  and  the  bravest 
soldier  in  the  thick  of  the  fight.  Even  the  death  of  Alexander, 
which  occurred  at  Babylon  in  the  three-and-thirtieth  year  of  his 
age,  gives  us  a  beautiful  spectacle  of  his  greatness,  and  shows 
m  what  relation  he  stood  to  his  army :  for  he  takes  leave  of  it 
with  the  perfect  consciousness  of  his  dignity. 

Alexander  had  the  good  fortune  to  die  at  the  proper  time; 
i.e.  it  may  be  called  good  fortune,  but  it  is  rather  a  necessity. 
That  he  may  stand  before  the  eyes  of  posterity  as  a  youth,  an 
early  death  must  hurry  him  away.  Achilles,  as  remarked  above, 
begins  the  Greek  world,  and  his  autotype  Alexander  concludes 
it :  and  these  youths  not  only  supply  a  picture  of  the  fairest  kind 
in  their  own  persons,  but  at  the  same  time  afford  a  complete  and 
perfect  type  of  Hellenic  existence.  Alexander  finished  his  work 
and  completed  his  ideal;  and  thus  bequeathed  to  the  world 
one  of  the  noblest  and  most  brilliant  of  visions,  which  our  poor 
reflections  only  serve  to  obscure.  For  the  great  World-His- 
torical form  of  Alexander,  the  modern  standard  applied  by  re- 
cent historical  "  Philistines  " — that  of  virtue  or  morality — will 
by  no  means  suffice.    And  if  it  be  alleged  in  depreciation  of  his 


274  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

merit,  that  he  had  no  successor,  and  left  behind  no  dynasty,  we 
may  remark  that  the  Greek  kingdoms  that  arose  in  Asia  after 
him,  are  his  dynasty.  For  two  years  he  was  engaged  in  a  cam- 
paign in  Bactria,  which  brought  him  into  contact  with  the  Mas- 
sagetse  and  Scythians;  and  there  arose  the  Graeco-Bactrian 
kingdom  which  lasted  for  two  centuries.  Thence  the  Greeks 
came  into  connection  with  India,  and  even  with  China.  The 
Greek  dominion  spread  itself  over  northern  India,  and  San- 
drokottus  (Chandraguptas)  is  mentioned  as  the  first  who  eman- 
cipated himself  from  it.  The  same  name  presents  itself  indeed 
among  the  Hindoos,  but  for  reasons  already  stated,  we  can 
place  very  little  dependence  upon  such  mention.  Other  Greek 
Kingdoms  arose  in  Asia  Minor,  in  Armenia,  in  Syria  and  Baby- 
lonia. But  Egypt  especially,  among  the  kingdoms  of  the  suc- 
cessors of  Alexander,  became  a  great  centre  of  science  and  art ; 
for  a  great  number  of  its  architectural  works  belong  to  the  time 
of  the  Ptolemies,  as  has  been  made  out  from  the  deciphered  in- 
scriptions. Alexandria  became  the  chief  centre  of  commerce — 
the  point  of  union  for  Eastern  manners  and  tradition  with  West- 
ern civilization.  Besides  these,  the  Macedonian  Kingdom,  that 
of  Thrace,  stretching  beyond  the  Danube,  that  of  Illyria,  and 
that  of  Epirus,  flourished  under  the  sway  of  Greek  princes. 

Alexander  was  also  extraordinarily  attached  to  the  sciences, 
and  he  is  celebrated  as  next  to  Pericles  the  most  liberal  patron 
of  the  arts.  Meier  says  in  his  "  History  of  Art,"  that  his  intelli- 
gent love  of  art  would  have  secured  him  an  immortality  of 
fame  not  less  than  his  conquests. 


SECTION  III 

THE  FALL  OF  THE  GREEK  SPIRIT 

THIS  third  period  in  the  history  of  the  Hellenic  World, 
which  embraces  the  protracted  development  of  the  evil 
destiny  of  Greece,  interests  us  less.  Those  who  had  been 
Alexander's  Generals,  now  assuming  an  independent  appearance 
on  the  stage  of  history  as  Kings,  carried  on  long  wars  with  each 
other,  and  experienced,  almost  all  of  them,  the  most  romantic 
revolutions  of  fortune.  Especially  remarkable  and  prominent 
in  this  respect  is  the  life  of  Demetrius  Poliorcetes. 

In  Greece  the  States  had  preserved  their  existence :  brought 
to  a  consciousness  of  their  weakness  by  Philip  and  Alexander, 
they  contrived  to  enjoy  an  apparent  vitality,  and  boasted  of  an 
unreal  independence.  That  self-consciousness  which  inde- 
pendence confers,  they  could  not  have;  and  diplomatic  statesmen 
took  the  lead  in  the  several  States — orators  who  were  not  at  the 
same  time  generals,  as  was  the  case  formerly — e.g.  in  the  person 
of  Pericles.  The  countries  of  Greece  now  assume  various  rela- 
tions to  the  different  monarchs,  who  continued  to  contend  for 
the  sovereignty  of  the  Greek  States — partly  also  for  their  favor, 
especially  for  that  of  Athens :  for  Athens  still  presented  an  im- 
posing figure — if  not  as  a  Power,  yet  certainly  as  the  centre  of 
the  higher  arts  and  sciences,  especially  of  Philosophy  and  Rhet- 
oric. Besides  it  kept  itself  more  free  from  the  gross  excess, 
coarseness  and  passions  which  prevailed  in  the  other  States,  and 
made  them  contemptible ;  and  the  Syrian  and  Egyptian  kings 
deemed  it  an  honor  to  make  Athens  large  presents  of  corn  and 
other  useful  supplies.  To  some  extent  too  the  kings  of  the 
period  reckoned  it  their  greatest  glory  to  render  and  to  keep 
the  Greek  cities  and  states  independent.  The  Emancipation  of 
Greece  had  as  it  were,  become  the  general  watch-word ;  and  it 
passed  for  a  high  title  of  fame  to  be  called  the  Deliverer  of 
Greece.    If  we  examine  the  hidden  political  bearing  of  this  word, 

275 
Vol.  23  M_ Classics 


276  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

we  shall  find  that  it  denotes  the  prevention  of  any  indigenous 
Greek  State  from  obtaining  decided  superiority,  and  keeping 
all  in  a  state  of  weakness  by  separation  and  disorganization. 

The  special  peculiarity  by  which  each  Greek  State  was  dis- 
tinguished from  the  others  consisted  in  a  difference  similar  to 
that  of  their  glorious  divinities,  each  one  of  whom  has  his  par- 
ticular character  and  peculiar  being,  yet  so  that  this  peculiarity 
does  not  derogate  from  the  divinity  common  to  all.  When 
therefore,  this  divinity  has  become  weak  and  has  vanished  from 
the  States,  nothing  but  the  bare  particularity  remains — the 
repulsive  speciality  which  obstinately  and  waywardly  asserts 
itself,  and  which  on  that  very  account  assumes  a  position  of 
absolute  dependence  and  of  conflict  with  others.  Yet  the  feel- 
ing of  weakness  and  misery  led  to  combinations  here  and  there. 
The  Mtolians  and  their  allies  as  a  predatory  people,  set  up  in- 
justice, violence,  fraud,  and  insolence  to  others,  as  their  char- 
ter of  rights.  Sparta  was  governed  by  infamous  tyrants  and 
odious  passions,  and  in  this  condition  was  dependent  on  the 
Macedonian  Kings.  The  Boeotian  subjective  character  had, 
after  the  extinction  of  Theban  glory,  sunk  down  into  indolence 
and  the  vulgar  desire  of  coarse  sensual  enjoyment.  The  Achaean 
league  distinguished  itself  by  the  aim  of  its  union  (the  expulsion 
of  Tyrants,)  by  rectitude  and  the  sentiment  of  community.  But 
this  too  was  obliged  to  take  refuge  in  the  most  complicated 
policy.  What  we  see  here  on  the  whole  is  a  diplomatic  condi- 
tion— an  infinite  involvement  with  the  most  manifold  foreign 
interests — a  subtle  intertexture  and  play  of  parties,  whose 
threads  are  continually  being  combined  anew. 

In  the  internal  condition  of  the  states,  which,  enervated  by 
selfishness  and  debauchery,  were  broken  up  into  factions — each 
of  which  on  the  other  hand  directs  its  attention  to  foreign  lands, 
and  with  treachery  to  its  native  country  begs  for  the  favors  of 
the  Kings — the  point  of  interest  is  no  longer  the  fate  of  these 
states,  but  the  great  individuals,  who  arise  amid  the  general 
corruption,  and  honorably  devote  themselves  to  their  country. 
They  appear  as  great  tragic  characters,  who  with  their  genius, 
and  the  most  intense  exertion,  are  yet  unable  to  extirpate  the 
evils  in  question  ;  and  perish  in  the  struggle,  without  having 
had  the  satisfaction  of  restoring  to  their  fatherland  repose,  order 
and  freedom,  nay,  even  without  having  secured  a  reputation 
with  posterity  free  from  all  stain.     Livy  says  in  his  prefatory 


THE  GREEK  WORLD  277 

remarks :  "  In  our  times  we  can  neither  endure  our  faults  nor 
the  means  of  correcting  them."  And  this  is  quite  as  applicable 
to  these  Last  of  the  Greeks,  who  began  an  undertaking  which 
was  as  honorable  and  noble,  as  it  was  sure  of  being  frustrated. 
Agis  and  Cleomenes,  Aratus  and  Philopcemen,  thus  sunk  under 
the  struggle  for  the  good  of  their  nation.  Plutarch  sketches  for 
us  a  highly  characteristic  picture  of  these  times,  in  giving  us  a 
representation  of  the  importance  of  individuals  during  their 
continuance. 

The  third  period  of  the  history  of  the  Greeks  brings  us  to 
their  contact  with  that  people  which  was  to  play  the  next  part 
on  the  theatre  of  the  World's  History ;  and  the  chief  excuse 
for  this  contact  was — as  pretexts  had  previously  been — the 
liberation  of  Greece.  After  Perseus  the  last  Macedonian  King, 
in  the  year  168  b.c.  had  been  conquered  by  the  Romans  and 
brought  in  triumph  to  Rome,  the  Achaean  league  was  attacked 
and  broken  up,  and  at  last  in  the  year  146  B.C.  Corinth  was 
destroyed.  Looking  at  Greece  as  Polybius  describes  it,  we 
see  how  a  noble  nature  such  as  his,  has  nothing  left  for  it  but 
to  despair  at  the  state  of  affairs  and  to  retreat  into  Philosophy ; 
or  if  it  attempts  to  act,  can  only  die  in  the  struggle.  In  deadly 
contraposition  to  the  multiform  variety  of  passion  which 
Greece  presents — that  distracted  condition  which  whelms  good 
and  evil  in  one  common  ruin — Stands  a  blind  fate — an  iron 
power  ready  to  show  up  that  degraded  condition  in  all  its 
weakness,  and  to  dash  it  to  pieces  in  miserable  ruin ;  for  cure, 
amendment,  and  consolation  are  impossible.  And  this  crush- 
ing Destiny  is  the  Roman  power. 


PART  III 


THE   ROMAN  WORLD 

NAPOLEON,  in  a  conversation  which  he  once  had  with 
Goethe  on  the  nature  of  Tragedy,  expressed  the  opin- 
ion that  its  modern  phase  differed  from  the  ancient, 
through  our  no  longer  recognizing  a  Destiny  to  which  men  are 
absolutely  subject,  and  that  Policy  occupies  the  place  of  the 
ancient  Fate  [La  politique  est  la  fatalite].  This  therefore  he 
thought  must  be  used  as  the  modern  form  of  Destiny  in  Trag- 
edy— the  irresistible  power  of  circumstances  to  which  individ- 
uality must  bend.  Such  a  power  is  the  Roman  World,  chosen 
for  the  very  purpose  of  casting  the  moral  units  into  bonds,  as 
also  of  collecting  all  Deities  and  all  Spirits  into  the  Pantheon 
of  Universal  dominion,  in  order  to  make  out  of  them  an  ab- 
stract universality  of  power.  The  distinction  between  the 
Roman  and  the  Persian  principle  is  exactly  this — that  the  former 
stifles  all  vitality,  while  the  latter  allowed  of  its  existence  in  the 
fullest  measure.  Through  its  being  the  aim  of  the  State,  that 
the  social  units  in  their  moral  life  should  be  sacrificed  to  it,  the 
world  is  sunk  in  melancholy :  its  heart  is  broken,  and  it  is  all 
over  with  the  Natural  side  of  Spirit,  which  has  sunk  into  a  feel- 
ing of  unhappiness.  Yet  only  from  this  feeling  could  arise  the 
supersensuous,  the  free  Spirit  in  Christianity. 

In  the  Greek  principle  we  have  seen  spiritual  existence  in  its 
exhilaration — its  cheerfulness  and  enjoyment:  Spirit  had  not 
yet  drawn  back  into  abstraction ;  it  was  still  involved  with  the 
Natural  element — the  idiosyncrasy  of  individuals ; — on  which 
account  the  virtues  of  individuals  themselves  became  moral 
works  of  art.  Abstract  universal  Personality  had  not  yet  ap- 
peared, for  Spirit  must  first  develop  itself  to  that  form  of  abstract 
Universality  which  exercised  the  severe  discipline  over  human- 
ity now  under  consideration.    Here,  in  Rome,  then,  we  find  that 

278 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  279 

free  universality,  that  abstract  Freedom,  which  on  the  one  hand 
sets  an  abstract  state,  a  political  constitution  and  power,  over 
concrete  individuality;  on  the  other  side  creates  a  personality 
in  opposition  to  that  universality — the  inherent  freedom  of  the 
abstract  Ego,  which  must  be  distinguished  from  individual 
idiosyncrasy.  For  Personality  constitutes  the  fundamental  con- 
dition of  legal  Right :  it  appears  chiefly  in  the  category  of  Prop- 
erty, but  it  is  indifferent  to  the  concrete  characteristics  of  the 
living  Spirit  with  which  individuality  is  concerned.  These  two 
elements,  which  constitute  Rome — political  Universality  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  abstract  freedom  of  the  individual  on  the 
other — appear,  in  the  first  instance,  in  the  form  of  Subjectivity. 
This  Subjectivity — this  retreating  into  one's  self  which  we  ob- 
served as  the  corruption  of  the  Greek  Spirit — becomes  here  the 
ground  on  which  a  new  side  of  the  World's  History  arises.  In 
considering  the  Roman  World,  we  have  not  to  do  with  a  con- 
cretely spiritual  life,  rich  in  itself ;  but  the  world-historical  ele- 
ment in  it  is  the  abstr actum  of  Universality,  and  the  object  which 
is  pursued  with  soulless  and  heartless  severity,  is  mere  dominion, 
in  order  to  enforce  that  abstractum. 

In  Greece,  Democracy  was  the  fundamental  condition  of  po- 
litical life,  as  in  the  East,  Despotism;  here  we  have  Aristocracy 
of  a  rigid  order,  in  a  state  of  opposition  to  the  people.  In  Greece 
also  the  Democracy  was  rent  asunder,  but  only  in  the  way  of 
factions ;  in  Rome  it  is  principles  that  keep  the  entire  com- 
munity in  a  divided  state — they  occupy  a  hostile  position 
towards,  and  struggle  with  each  other:  first  the  Aristocracy 
with  the  Kings,  then  the  Plebs  with  the  Aristocracy,  till  De- 
mocracy gets  the  upper  hand  ;  then  first  arise  factions  in  which 
originated  that  later  aristocracy  of  commanding  individuals 
which  subjugated  the  world.  It  is  this  dualism  that,  properly 
speaking,  marks  Rome's  inmost  being. 

Erudition  has  regarded  the  Roman  History  from  various 
points  of  view,  and  has  adopted  very  different  and  opposing 
opinions :  this  is  especially  the  case  with  the  more  ancient  part 
of  the  history,  which  has  been  taken  up  by  three  different  classes 
of  literati — Historians,  Philologists,  and  Jurists.  The  His- 
torians hold  to  the  grand  features,  and  show  respect  for  the 
history  as  such ;  so  that  we  may  after  all  see  our  way  best  under 
their  guidance,  since  they  allow  the  validity  of  the  records  in 
the  case  of  leading  events.    It  is  otherwise  with  the  Philologists, 


28o  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

by  whom  generally  received  traditions  are  less  regarded,  ancf 
who  devote  more  attention  to  small  details  which  can  be  com- 
bined in  various  ways.  These  combinations  gain  a  footing  first 
as  historical  hypotheses,  but  soon  after  as  established  facts. 
To  the  same  degree  as  the  Philologists  in  their  department, 
have  the  Jurists  in  that  of  Roman  law,  instituted  the  minutest 
examination  and  involved  their  inferences  with  hypothesis. 
The  result  is  that  the  most  ancient  part  of  Roman  History  has 
been  declared  to  be  nothing  but  fable ;  so  that  this  department 
of  inquiry  is  brought  entirely  within  the  province  of  learned 
criticism,  which  always  finds  the  most  to  do  where  the  least  is 
to  be  got  for  the  labor.  While  on  the  one  side  the  poetry  and 
the  myths  of  the  Greeks  are  said  to  contain  profound  historical 
truths,  and  are  thus  transmuted  into  history,  the  Romans  on  the 
contrary  have  myths  and  poetical  views  affiliated  upon  them ; 
and  epopees  are  affirmed  to  be  at  the  basis  of  what  has  been 
hitherto  taken  for  prosaic  and  historical. 

With  these  preliminary  remarks  we  proceed  to  describe  the 
Locality. 

The  Roman  World  has  its  centre  in  Italy ;  which  is  extremely 
similar  to  Greece,  and,  like  it,  forms  a  peninsula,  only  not  so 
deeply  indented.  Within  this  country,  the  city  of  Rome  itself 
formed  the  centre  of  the  centre.  Napoleon  in  his  Memoirs  takes 
up  the  question,  which  city — if  Italy  were  independent  and 
formed  a  totality — would  be  best  adapted  for  its  capital.  Rome, 
Venice,  and  Milan  may  put  forward  claims  to  the  honor;  but 
it  is  immediately  evident  that  none  of  these  cities  would  supply 
a  centre.  Northern  Italy  constitutes  a  basin  of  the  river  Po, 
and  is  quite  distinct  from  the  body  of  the  peninsula;  Venice 
is  connected  only  with  Higher  Italy,  not  with  the  south ;  Rome, 
on  the  other  hand,  would,  perhaps,  be  naturally  a  centre  for 
Middle  and  Lower  Italy,  but  only  artificially  and  violently  for 
those  lands  which  were  subjected  to  it  in  Higher  Italy.  The 
Roman  State  rests  geographically,  as  well  as  historically,  on  the 
element  of  force. 

The  locality  of  Italy,  then,  presents  no  natural  unity — as  the 
valley  of  the  Nile;  the  unity  was  similar  to  that  which  Mace- 
donia by  its  sovereignty  gave  to  Greece;  though  Italy  wanted 
that  permeation  by  one  spirit,  which  Greece  possessed  through 
equality  of  culture;  for  it  was  inhabited  by  very  various  races. 
Niebuhr  has  prefaced  his  Roman  history  by  a  profoundly  erudite 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  281 

treatise  on  the  peoples  of  Italy;  but  from  which  no  connection 
between  them  and  the  Roman  History  is  visible.  In  fact, 
Niebuhr's  History  can  only  be  regarded  as  a  criticism  of  Roman 
History,  for  it  consists  of  a  series  of  treatises  which  by  no  means 
possess  the  unity  of  history. 

We  observed  subjective  inwardness  as  the  general  principle 
of  the  Roman  World.  The  course  of  Roman  History,  therefore, 
involves  the  expansion  of  undeveloped  subjectivity — inward 
conviction  of  existence — to  the  visibility  of  the  real  world.  The 
principle  of  subjective  inwardness  receives  positive  application 
in  the  first  place  only  from  without — through  the  particular  voli- 
tion of  the  sovereignty,  the  government,  etc.  The  development 
consists  in  the  purification  of  inwardness  to  abstract  personality, 
which  gives  itself  reality  in  the  existence  of  private  property; 
the  mutually  repellent  social  units  can  then  be  held  together  only 
by  despotic  power.  The  general  course  of  the  Roman  World 
may  be  defined  as  this;  the  transition  from  the  inner  sanctum 
of  subjectivity  to  its  direct  opposite.  The  development  is  here 
not  of  the  same  kind  as  that  in  Greece — the  unfolding  and  ex- 
panding of  its  own  substance  on  the  part  of  the  principle;  but 
it  is  the  transition  to  its  opposite,  which  latter  does  not  appear  as 
an  element  of  corruption,  but  is  demanded  and  posited  by  the 
principle  itself. — As  to  the  particular  sections  of  the  Roman 
History,  the  common  division  is  that  into  the  Monarchy,  the  Re- 
public, and  the  Empire — as  if  in  these  forms  different  principles 
made  their  appearance;  but  the  same  principle — that  of  the 
Roman  Spirit — underlies  their  development.  In  our  division, 
we  must  rather  keep  in  view  the  course  of  History  generally. 
The  annals  of  every  World-historical  people  were  divided  above 
into  three  periods,  and  this  statement  must  prove  itself  true  in 
this  case  also.  The  first  period  comprehends  the  rudiments  of 
Rome,  in  which  the  elements  which  are  essentially  opposed,  still 
repose  in  calm  unity;  until  the  contrarieties  have  acquired 
strength,  and  the  unity  of  the  State  becomes  a  powerful  one, 
through  that  antithetical  condition  having  been  produced  and 
maintained  within  it.  In  this  vigorous  condition  the  State 
directs  its  forces  outwards — i.e.,  in  the  second  period — and  makes 
its  debut  on  the  theatre  of  general  history;  this  is  the  noblest 
period  of  Rome — the  Punic  Wars  and  the  contact  with  the  ante- 
cedent World-Historical  people.  A  wider  stage  is  opened, 
towards  the  East;  the  history  at  the  epoch  of  this  contact  has 


28a  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

been  treated  by  the  noble  Polybius.  The  Roman  Empire  now 
acquired  that  world-conquering  extension  which  paved  the  way 
for  its  fall.  Internal  distraction  supervened,  while  the  antithesis 
was  developing  itself  to  self-contradiction  and  utter  incompati- 
bility; it  closes  with  Despotism,  which  marks  the  third  period. 
The  Roman  power  appears  here  in  its  pomp  and  splendor;  but 
it  is  at  the  same  time  profoundly  ruptured  within  itself,  and  the 
Christian  Religion,  which  begins  with  the  imperial  dominion, 
receives  a  great  extension.  The  third  period  comprises  the  con- 
tact of  Rome  with  the  North  and  the  German  peoples,  whose 
turn  is  now  come  to  play  their  part  in  History. 


SECTION   I 

ROME  TO  THE  TIME  OF  THE  SECOND  PUNIC 

WAR 

Chapter  I. — The  Elements  of  the  Roman  Spirit 

BEFORE  we  come  to  the  Roman  History,  we  have  to  con- 
sider the  Elements  of  the  Roman  Spirit  in  general,  and 
mention  and  investigate  the  origin  of  Rome  with  a  ref- 
erence to  them.  Rome  arose  outside  recognised  countries,  viz., 
in  an  angle  where  three  different  districts  met — those  of  the 
Latins,  Sabines  and  Etruscans;  it  was  not  formed  from  some 
ancient  stem,  connected  by  natural  patriarchal  bonds,  whose 
origin  might  be  traced  up  to  remote  times  (as  seems  to  have 
been  the  case  with  the  Persians,  who,  however,  even  then  ruled 
a  large  empire);  but  Rome  was  from  the  very  beginning,  of 
artificial  and  violent,  not  spontaneous  growth.  It  is  related  that 
the  descendants  of  the  Trojans,  led  by  yEneas  to  Italy,  founded 
Rome;  for  the  connection  with  Asia  was  a  much  cherished 
tradition,  and  there  are  in  Italy,  France,  and  Germany  itself 
(Xanten)  many  towns  which  refer  their  origin,  or  their  names, 
to  the  fugitive  Trojans.  Livy  speaks  of  the  ancient  tribes  of 
Rome,  the  Ramnenses,  Titienses,  and  Luceres.  Now  if  we  look 
upon  these  as  distinct  nations,  and  assert  that  they  were  really 
the  elements  from  which  Rome  was  formed — a  view  which  in 
recent  times  has  very  often  striven  to  obtain  currency — we  di- 
rectly subvert  the  historical  tradition.  All  historians  agree  that 
at  an  early  period,  shepherds,  under  the  leadership  of  chieftains, 
roved  about  on  the  hills  of  Rome;  that  the  first  Roman  com- 
munity constituted  itself  as  a  predatory  state;  and  that  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  the  scattered  inhabitants  of  the  vicinity  were 
thus  united.  The  details  of  these  circumstances  are  also  given 
Those  predatory  shepherds  received  every  contribution  to  their 
community  that  chose  to  join  them  (Livy  calls  it  a  colluvies). 
The  rabble  of  all  the  three  districts  between  which  Rome  lay,  was 

283 


284  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

collected  in  the  new  city.  The  historians  state  that  this  point 
was  very  well  chosen  on  a  hill  close  to  the  river,  and  particularly 
adapted  to  make  it  an  asylum  for  all  delinquents.  It  is  equally 
historical  that  in  the  newly  formed  state  there  were  no  women, 
and  that  the  neighboring  states  would  enter  into  no  connubia 
with  it:  both  circumstances  characterize  it  as  predatory  union, 
with  which  the  other  states  wished  to  have  no  connection.  They 
also  refused  the  invitation  to  their  religious  festivals;  and  only 
the  Sabines — a  simple  agricultural  people,  among  whom,  as 
Livy  says,  prevailed  a  tristis  atque  tetrica  supcrstitio — partly  from 
superstition,  partly  from  fear,  presented  themselves  at  them. 
The  seizure  of  the  Sabine  women  is  also  a  universally  received 
historical  fact.  This  circumstance  itself  involves  a  very  char- 
acteristic feature,  viz.,  that  Religion  is  used  as  a  means  for 
furthering  the  purposes  of  the  infant  State.  Another  method 
of  extension  was  the  conveying  to  Rome  of  the  inhabitants  of 
neighboring  and  conquered  towns.  At  a  later  date  there  was 
also  a  voluntary  migration  of  foreigners  to  Rome;  as  in  the  case 
of  the  so  celebrated  family  of  the  Claudii,  bringing  their  whole 
clientela.  The  Corinthian  Demaratus,  belonging  to  a  family  of 
consideration,  had  settled  in  Etruria;  but  as  being  an  exile  and  a 
foreigner,  he  was  little  respected  there,  and  his  son,  Lucumo, 
could  no  longer  endure  this  degradation.  He  betook  himself  to 
Rome,  says  Livy,  because  a  new  people  and  a  repentin  a  atque  ex 
virtute  nobilitas  were  to  be  found  there.  Lucumo  attained,  we 
are  told,  such  a  degree  of  respect,  that  he  afterwards  became 
king. 

It  is  this  peculiarity  in  the  founding  of  the  State  which  must 
be  regarded  as  the  essential  basis  of  the  idiosyncrasy  of  Rome. 
For  it  directly  involves  the  severest  discipline,  and  self-sacrifice 
to  the  grand  object  of  the  union.  A  State  which  had  first  to 
form  itself,  and  which  is  based  on  force,  must  be  held  together 
by  force.  It  is  not  a  moral,  liberal  connection,  but  a  compulsory 
condition  of  subordination,  that  results  from  such  an  origin. 
The  Roman  virtus  is  valor;  not,  however,  the  merely  personal, 
but  that  which  is  essentially  connected  with  a  union  of  associ- 
ates; which  union  is  regarded  as  the  supreme  interest,  and  may 
be  combined  with  lawless  violence  of  all  kinds.  While  the 
Romans  formed  a  union  of  this  kind,  they  were  not,  indeed,  like 
the  Lacedaemonians,  engaged  in  an  internal  contest  with  a 
conquered  and  subjugated  people;  but  there  arose  a  distinction 


THE  ROMAN   WORLD  285 

and  a  struggle  between  Patricians  and  Plebeians.  This  distinc- 
tion was  mythically  adumbrated  in  the  hostile  brothers,  Romu- 
lus and  Remus.  Remus  was  buried  on  the  Aventine  mount; 
this  is  consecrated  to  the  eVil  genii,  and  to  it  are  directed  the 
Secessions  of  the  Plebs.  The  question  comes,  then,  how  this 
distinction  originated  ?  It  has  been  already  said,  that  Rome  was 
formed  by  robber-herdsmen,  and  the  concourse  of  rabble  of  all 
sorts.  At  a  later  date,  the  inhabitants  of  captured  and  destroyed 
towns  were  also  conveyed  thither.  The  weaker,  the  poorer,  the 
later  additions  of  population  are  naturally  underrated  by,  and 
in  a  condition  of  dependence  upon  those  who  originally  founded 
the  state,  and  those  who  were  distinguished  by  valor,  and  also  by 
wealth.  It  is  not  necessary,  therefore,  to  take  refuge  in  a  hy- 
pothesis which  has  recently  been  a  favorite  one — that  the  Patri- 
cians formed  a  particular  race. 

The  dependence  of  the  Plebeians  on  the  Patricians  is  often 
represented  as  a  perfectly  legal  relation — indeed,  even  a  sacred 
one ;  since  the  Patricians  had  the  sacra  in  their  hands,  while  the 
plebs  would  have  been  godless,  as  it  were,  without  them.  The 
Plebeians  left  to  the  Patricians  their  hypocritical  stuff  (ad  de- 
cipiendam  plebem,  Cic.)  and  cared  nothing  for  their  sacra  and 
auguries ;  but  in  disjoining  political  rights  from  these  ritual  ob- 
servances, and  making  good  their  claim  to  those  rights,  they, 
were  no  more  guilty  of  a  presumptuous  sacrilege  than  the 
Protestants,  when  they  emancipated  the  political  power  of  the 
State,  and  asserted  the  freedom  of  conscience.  The  light  in 
which,  as  previously  stated,  we  must  regard  the  relation  of  the 
Patricians  and  Plebeians  is,  that  those  who  were  poor,  and  con- 
sequently helpless,  were  compelled  to  attach  themselves  to  the 
richer  and  more  respectable,  and  to  seek  for  their  patrocinium: 
in  this  relation  of  protection  on  the  part  of  the  more  wealthy,  the 
protected  are  called  clientes.  But  we  find  very  soon  a  fresh  dis- 
tinction between  the  plebs  and  the  clientes.  In  the  contentions 
between  the  Patricians  and  the  Plebeians,  the  clientes  held  to 
their  patroni,  though  belonging  to  the  plebs  as  decidedly  as  any 
class.  That  this  relation  of  the  clientes  had  not  the  stamp  of 
right  and  law  is  evident  from  the  fact,  that  with  the  introduction 
and  knowledge  of  the  laws  among  all  classes,  the  cliental  rela- 
tion gradually  vanished ;  for  as  soon  as  individuals  found  pro- 
tection in  the  law,  the  temporary  necessity  for  it  could  not  but 
cease. 


286  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

In  the  first  predatory  period  of  the  state,  every  citizen  was 
necessarily  a  soldier,  for  the  state  was  based  on  war ;  this  burden 
was  oppressive,  since  every  citizen  was  obliged  to  maintain 
himself  in  the  field.  This  circumstance,  therefore,  gave  rise  to 
the  contracting  of  enormous  debts — the  Patricians  becoming 
the  creditors  of  the  Plebeians.  With  the  introduction  of  laws, 
this  arbitrary  relation  necessarily  ceased;  but  only  gradually, 
for  the  Patricians  were  far  from  being  immediately  inclined  to 
release  the  plebs  from  the  cliental  relation ;  they  rather  strove  to 
render  it  permanent.  The  laws  of  the  Twelve  Tables  still  con- 
tained much  that  was  undefined ;  very  much  was  still  left  to  the 
arbitrary  will  of  the  judge — the  Patricians  alone  being  judges; 
the  antithesis,  therefore,  between  Patricians  and  Plebeians,  con- 
tinues till  a  much  later  period.  Only  by  degrees  do  the  Plebe- 
ians scale  all  the  heights  of  official  station,  and  attain  those 
privileges  which  formerly  belonged  to  the  Patricians  alone. 

In  the  life  of  the  Greeks,  although  it  did  not  any  more  than 
that  of  the  Romans  originate  in  the  patriarchal  relation,  Family 
love  and  the  Family  tie  appeared  at  its  very  commencement,  and 
the  peaceful  aim  of  their  social  existence  had  for  its  necessary 
condition  the  extirpation  of  freebooters  both  by  sea  and  land. 
The  founders  of  Rome,  on  the  contrary — Romulus  and  Remus 
— are,  according  to  the  tradition,  themselves  freebooters — repre- 
sented as  from  their  earliest  days  thrust  out  from  the  Family, 
and  as  having  grown  up  in  a  state  of  isolation  from  family  affec- 
tion. In  like  manner,  the  first  Romans  are  said  to  have  got  their 
wives,  not  by  free  courtship  and  reciprocated  inclination,  but 
by  force.  This  commencement  of  the  Roman  life  in  savage  rude- 
ness excluding  the  sensibilities  of  natural  morality,  brings  with 
it  one  characteristic  element — harshness  in  respect  to  the  family 
relation ;  a  selfish  harshness,  which  constituted  the  fundamental 
condition  of  Roman  manners  and  laws,  as  we  observe  them  in 
the  sequel.  We  thus  find  family  relations  among  the  Romans 
not  as  a  beautiful,  free  relation  of  love  and  feeling;  the  place 
of  confidence  is  usurped  by  the  principle  of  severity,  dependence, 
and  subordination.  Marriage,  in  its  strict  and  formal  shape, 
bore  quite  the  aspect  of  a  mere  contract ;  the  wife  was  part  of 
the  husband's  property  (in  manum  conventio),  and  the  marriage 
ceremony  was  based  on  a  cocmtio,  in  a  form  such  as  might  have 
been  adopted  on  the  occasion  of  any  other  purchase.  The  hus- 
band acquired  a  power  over  his  wife,  such  as  he  had  over  his 


THE   ROMAN    WORLD  287 

daughter ;  nor  less  over  her  property ;  so  that  everything  which 
she  gained,  she  gained  for  her  husband.  During  the  good  times 
of  the  republic,  the  celebration  of  marriages  included  a  religious 
ceremony — confarreatio — but  which  was  omitted  at  a  later 
period.  The  husband  obtained  not  less  power  than  by  the 
coemtio,  when  he  married  according  to  the  form  called  usus, 
that  is,  when  the  wife  remained  in  the  house  of  her  husband 
without  having  been  absent  a  trinoctium  in  a  year.  •  If  the 
husband  had  not  married  in  one  of  the  forms  of  the  in  manum 
conventio,  the  wife  remained  either  in  the  power  of  her  father, 
or  under  the  guardianship  of  her  agnates,  and  was  free  as  re- 
garded her  husband.  The  Roman  matron,  therefore,  obtained 
honor  and  dignity  only  through  independence  of  her  husband, 
instead  of  acquiring  her  honor  through  her  husband  and  by 
marriage.  If  a  husband  who  had  married  under  the  freer  con- 
dition— that  is,  when  the  union  was  not  consecrated  by  the  con- 
farreatio— wished  to  separate  from  his  wife,  he  dismissed  her 
without  further  ceremony.  The  relation  of  sons  was  perfectly 
similar :  they  were,  on  the  one  hand,  about  as  dependent  on  the 
paternal  power  as  the  wife  on  the  matrimonial ;  they  could  not 
possess  property — it  made  no  difference  whether  they  filled  a 
high  office  in  the  State  or  not  (though  the  peculia  castrensia, 
and  adventitia  were  differently  regarded)  ;  but  on  the  other 
hand,  when  they  were  emancipated,  they  had  no  connection  with 
their  father  and  their  family.  An  evidence  of  the  degree  in 
which  the  position  of  children  was  regarded  as  analogous  to 
that  of  slaves,  is  presented  in  the  imaginaria  servitus  (mancip- 
ium),  through  which  emancipated  children  had  to  pass.  In  ref- 
erence to  inheritance,  morality  would  seem  to  demand  that  chil- 
dren should  share  equally.  Among  the  Romans,  on  the  con- 
trary, testamentary  caprice  manifests  itself  in  its  harshest  form. 
Thus  perverted  and  demoralized,  do  we  here  see  the  funda- 
mental relations  of  ethics.  The  immoral  active  severity  of  the 
Romans  in  this  private  side  of  character,  necessarily  finds  its 
counterpart  in  the  passive  severity  of  their  political  union.  For 
the  severity  which  the  Roman  experienced  from  the  State  he 
was  compensated  by  a  severity,  identical  in  nature,  which  he 
was  allowed  to  indulge  towards  his  family — a  servant  on  the  one 
side,  a  despot  on  the  other.  This  constitutes  the  Roman  great- 
ness, whose  peculiar  characteristic  was  stern  inflexibility  in  the 
union  of  individuals  with  the  State,  and  with  its  law  and  man- 


288  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

date.  In  order  to  obtain  a  nearer  view  of  this  Spirit,  we  must 
not  merely  keep  in  view  the  actions  of  Roman  heroes,  confront- 
ing the  enemy  as  soldiers  or  generals,  or  appearing  as  ambassa- 
dors— since  in  these  cases  they  belong,  with  their  whole  mind 
and  thought,  only  to  the  state  and  its  mandate,  without  hesita- 
tion or  yielding — but  pay  particular  attention  also  to  the  con- 
duct of  the  plebs  in  times  of  revolt  against  the  patricians.  How 
often  in  insurrection  and  in  anarchical  disorder  was  the  plebs 
brought  back  into  a  state  of  tranquillity  by  a  mere  form,  and 
cheated  of  the  fulfilment  of  its  demands,  righteous  or  unright- 
eous! How  often  was  a  Dictator,  e.g.,  chosen  by  the  senate, 
when  there  was  neither  war  nor  danger  from  an  enemy,  in  order 
to  get  the  plebeians  into  the  army,  and  to  bind  them  to  strict 
obedience  by  the  military  oath!  It  took  Licinius  ten  years  to 
carry  laws  favorable  to  the  plebs ;  the  latter  allowed  itself  to  be 
kept  back  by  the  mere  formality  of  the  veto  on  the  part  of  other 
tribunes,  and  still  more  patiently  did  it  wait  for  the  long-delayed 
execution  of  these  laws.  It  may  be  asked :  By  what  were  such  a 
disposition  and  character  produced?  Produced  it  cannot  be,  but 
it  is  essentially  latent  in  the  origination  of  the  State  from  that 
primal  robber-community,  as  also  in  tfce  idiosyncrasy  of  the  peo- 
ple who  composed  it,  and  lastly,  in  that  phase  of  the  World- 
Spirit  which  was  just  ready  for  development.  The  elements  of 
the  Roman  people  were  Etruscan,  Latin  and  Sabine;  these 
must  have  contained  an  inborn  natural  adaptation  to  produce 
the  Roman  Spirit.  Of  the  spirit,  the  character,  and  the  life  of 
the  ancient  Italian  peoples  we  know  very  little — thanks  to  the 
non-intelligent  character  of  Roman  historiography! — and  that 
little,  for  the  most  part,  from  the  Greek  writers  on  Roman  his- 
tory. But  of  the  general  character  of  the  Romans  we  may  say 
that,  in  contrast  with  that  primeval  wild  poetry  and  transmuta- 
tion of  the  finite,  which  we  observe  in  the  East — in  contrast  with 
the  beautiful,  harmonious  poetry  and  well-balanced  freedom  of 
Spirit  among  the  Greeks — here,  among  the  Romans  the  prose 
of  life  makes  its  appearance — the  self-consciousness  of  finiteness 
— the  abstraction  of  the  Understanding  and  a  rigorous  principle 
of  personality,  which  even  in  the  Family  does  not  expand  itself 
to  natural  morality,  but  remains  the  unfeeling  non-spiritual 
unit,  and  recognizes  the  uniting  bond  of  the  several  social  units 
only  in  abstract  universality. 

This  extreme  prose  of  the  Spirit  we  find  in  Etruscan  art, 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  289 

which  though  technically  perfect  and  so  far  true  to  nature,  has 
nothing  of  Greek  Ideality  and  Beauty:  we  also  observe  it  in  the 
development  of  Roman  Law  and  in  the  Roman  religion. 

To  the  constrained,  non-spiritual,  and  unfeeling  intelligence 
of  the  Roman  world  we  owe  the  origin  and  the  development  of 
positive  law,.  For  we  saw  above,  how  in  the  East,  relations  in 
their  very  nature  belonging  to  the  sphere  of  outward  or  inward 
morality,  were  made  legal  mandates;  even  among  the  Greeks, 
morality  was  at  the  same  time  juristic  right,  and  on  that  very 
account  the  constitution  was  entirely  dependent  on  morals  and 
disposition,  and  had  not  yet  a  fixity  of  principle  within  it,  to 
counterbalance  the  mutability  of  men's  inner  life  and  individual 
subjectivity.  The  Romans  then  completed  this  important  sepa- 
ration, and  discovered  a  principle  of  right,  which  is  external — 
i.e.  one  not  dependent  on  disposition  and  sentiment.  While  they 
have  thus  bestowed  upon  us  a  valuable  gift,  in  point  of  form,  we 
can  use  and  enjoy  it  without  becoming  victims  to  that  sterile 
Understanding — without  regarding  it  as  the  ne  plus  ultra  of 
Wisdom  and  Reason.  They  were  its  victims,  living  beneath  its 
sway ;  but  they  thereby  secured  for  others  Freedom  of  Spirit — 
viz.,  that  inward  Freedom  which  has  consequently  become 
emancipated  from  the  sphere  of  the  Limited  and  the  External. 
Spirit,  Soul,  Disposition,  Religion  have  now  no  longer  to  fear 
being  involved  with  that  abstract  juristical  Understanding.  Art 
too  has  its  external  side;  when  in  Art  the  mechanical  side  has 
been  brought  to  perfection,  Free  Art  can  arise  and  display  itself. 
But  those  must  be  pitied  who  knew  of  nothing  but  that  me- 
chanical side,  and  desired  nothing  further;  as  also  those  who, 
when  Art  has  arisen,  still  regard  the  Mechanical  as  the  highest. 

We  see  the  Romans  thus  bound  up  in  that  abstract  under- 
standing which  pertains  to  finiteness.  This  is  their  highest  char- 
acteristic, consequently  also  their  highest  consciousness,  in  Re- 
ligion. In  fact,  constraint  was  the  religion  of  the  Romans; 
among  the  Greeks,  on  the  contrary,  it  was  the  cheerfulness  of 
free  fantasy.  We  are  accustomed  to  regard  Greek  and  Roman 
religion  as  the  same,  and  use  the  names  Jupiter,  Minerva,  etc. 
as  Roman  deities,  often  without  distinguishing  them  from  those 
of  Greeks.  This  is  admissible  inasmuch  as  the  Greek  divinities 
were  more  or  less  introduced  among  the  Romans;  but  as  the 
Egyptian  religion  is  by  no  means  to  be  regarded  as  identical 
with  the  Greek,  merely  because  Herodotus  and  the  Greeks  form 


29o  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

to  themselves  an  idea  of  the  Egyptian  divinities  under  the  names 
"  Latona,"  "  Pallas,"  etc.,  so  neither  must  the  Roman  be  con- 
founded with  the  Greek.  We  have  said  that  in  the  Greek  re- 
ligion the  thrill  of  awe  suggested  by  Nature  was  fully  developed 
to  something  Spiritual — to  a  free  conception,  a  spiritual  form  of 
fancy — that  the  Greek  Spirit  did  not  remain  in  the  condition  of 
inward  fear,  but  proceeded  to  make  the  relation  borne  to  man  by 
Nature,  a  relation  of  freedom  and  cheerfulness.  The  Romans, 
on  the  contrary,  remained  satisfied  with  a  dull,  stupid  subjectiv- 
ity; consequently,  the  external  was  only  an  Object — something 
alien,  something  hidden.  The  Roman  spirit  which  thus  re- 
mained involved  in  subjectivity,  came  into  a  relation  of  con- 
straint and  dependence,  to  which  the  origin  of  the  word  "  re- 
ligio  "  (lig-are)  points.  The  Roman  had  always  to  do  with 
something  secret;  in  everything  he  believed  in  and  sought  for 
something  concealed;  and  while  in  the  Greek  religion  every- 
thing is  open  and  clear,  present  to  sense  and  contemplation— 
not  pertaining  to  a  future  world,  but  something  friendly,  and  of 
this  world — among  the  Romans  everything  exhibits  itself  as 
mysterious,  duplicate:  they  saw  in  the  object  first  itself,  and 
then  that  which  lies  concealed  in  it:  their  history  is  pervaded 
by  this  duplicate  mode  of  viewing  phenomena.  The  city  of 
Rome  had  besides  its  proper  name  another  secret  one,  known 
only  to  a  few.  It  is  believed  by  some  to  have  been  "  Valentia," 
the  Latin  translation  of  "  Roma  ";  others  think  it  was  "  Amor  " 
("  Roma  "  read  backwards).  Romulus,  the  founder  of  the  State, 
had  also  another,  a  sacred  name — "  Quirinus  " — by  which  title 
he  was  worshipped :  the  Romans  too  were  also  called  Quirites. 
(This  name  is  connected  with  the  term  "  curia  " :  in  tracing  its 
etymology  the  name  of  the  Sabine  town  "  Cures,"  has  been  had 
recourse  to.) 

Among  the  Romans  the  religious  thrill  of  awe  remained  unde- 
veloped; it  was  shut  up  to  the  mere  subjective  certainty  of  its 
own  existence.  Consciousness  has  therefore  given  itself  no 
spiritual  objectivity — has  not  elevated  itself  to  the  theoretical 
contemplation  of  the  eternally  divine  nature,  and  to  freedom  in 
that  contemplation ;  it  has  gained  no  religious  substantiality  for 
itself  from  Spirit.  The  bare  subjectivity  of  conscience  is  char- 
acteristic of  the  Roman  in  all  that  he  does  and  undertakes — in 
his  covenants,  political  relations,  obligations,  family  relations, 
etc.;  and  all  these  relations  receive  thereby  not  merely  a  legal 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  291 

sanction,  but  as  it  were  a  solemnity  analogous  to  that  of  an  oath. 
The  infinite  number  of  ceremonies  at  the  comitia,  on  assum- 
ing offices,  etc.,  are  expressions  and  declarations  that  concern 
this  firm  bond.  Everywhere  the  sacra  play  a  very  important 
part.  Transactions,  naturally  the  most  alien  to  constraint,  be- 
came a  sacrum,  and  were  petrified,  as  it  were,  into  that.  To  this 
category  belongs,  e.g.,  in  strict  marriages,  the  confarreatio,  and 
the  auguries  and  auspices  generally.  The  knowledge  of  these 
sacra  is  utterly  uninteresting  and  wearisome,  affording  fresh 
material  for  learned  research  as  to  whether  they  are  of  Etruscan, 
Sabine,  or  other  origin.  On  their  account  the  Roman  people 
have  been  regarded  as  extremely  pious,  both  in  positive  and  neg- 
ative observances ;  though  it  is  ridiculous  to  hear  recent  writers 
speak  with  unction  and  respect  of  these  sacra.  The  Patricians 
were  especially  fond  of  them ;  they  have  therefore  been  elevated 
in  the  judgment  of  some,  to  the  dignity  of  sacerdotal  families, 
and  regarded  as  the  sacred  gentes — the  possessors  and  conserva- 
tors of  Roman  religion :  the  plebeians  then  become  the  godless 
element.  On  this  head  what  is  pertinent  has  already  been  said. 
The  ancient  kings  were  at  the  same  time  also  reges  sacrorum. 
After  the  royal  dignity  had  been  done  away  with,  there  still 
remained  a  Rex  Sacrorum;  but  he,  like  all  the  other  priests,  was 
subject  to  the  Pontifex  Maximus,  who  presided  over  all  the 
"  sacra,"  and  gave  them  such  a  rigidity  and  fixity  as  enabled  the 
patricians  to  maintain  their  religious  power  so  long. 

But  the  essential  point  in  pious  feeling  is  the  subject  matter 
with  which  it  occupies  itself — though  it  is  often  asserted,  on 
the  contrary,  in  modern  times,  that  if  pious  feelings  exist,  it  is  a 
matter  of  indifference  what  object  occupies  them.  It  has  been 
already  remarked  of  the  Romans,  that  their  religious  subjectivi- 
ty did  not  expand  into  a  free  spiritual  and  moral  comprehensive- 
ness of  being.  It  can  be  said  that  their  piety  did  not  develop  itself 
into  religion ;  for  it  remained  essentially  formal,  and  this  formal- 
ism took  its  real  side  from  another  quarter.  From  the  very 
definition  given,  it  follows  that  it  can  only  be  of  a  finite,  unhal- 
lowed order,  since  it  arose  outside  the  secret  sanctum  of  re- 
ligion. The  chief  characteristic  of  Roman  Religion  is  therefore 
a  hard  and  dry  contemplation  of  certain  voluntary  aims,  which 
they  regard  as  existing  absolutely  in  their  divinities,  and  whose 
accomplishment  they  desire  of  them  as  embodying  absolute 
power.    These  purposes  constitute  that  for  the  sake  of  which 


292 


PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY. 


they  worship  the  gods,  and  by  which,  in  a  constrained,  limited 
way,  they  are  bound  to  their  deities.  The  Roman  religion  is 
therefore  the  entirely  prosaic  one  of  narrow  aspirations,  expedi- 
ency, profit.  The  divinities  peculiar  to  them  are  entirely  prosaic ; 
they  are  conditions  [of  mind  or  body],  sensations,  or  useful  arts, 
to  which  their  dry  fancy,  having  elevated  them  to  independent 
power,  gave  objectivity;  they  are  partly  abstractions,  which 
could  only  become  frigid  allegories — partly  conditions  of  being 
which  appear  as  bringing  advantage  or  injury,  and  which  were 
presented  as  objects  of  worship  in  their  original  bare  and  lim- 
ited form.  We  can  but  briefly  notice  a  few  examples.  The 
Romans  worshipped  "  Pax,"  "  Tranquillitas,"  "  Vacuna  "  (Re- 
pose), "Angeronia"  (Sorrow  and  Grief),  as  divinities;  they 
consecrated  altars  to  the  Plague,  to  Hunger,  to  Mildew  (Robi- 
go),  to  Fever,  and  to  the  Dea  Cloacina.  Juno  appears  among  the 
Romans  not  merely  as  "  Lucina,"  the  obstetric  goddess,  but  also 
as  "  Juno  Ossipagina,"  the  divinity  who  forms  the  bones  of  the 
child,  and  as  "  Juno  Unxia,"  who  anoints  the  hinges  of  the  doors 
at  marriages  (a  matter  which  was  also  reckoned  among  the 
"  sacra  ").  How  little  have  these  prosaic  conceptions  in  com- 
mon with  the  beauty  of  the  spiritual  powers  and  deities  of  the 
Greeks!  On  the  other  hand,  Jupiter  as  "  Jupiter  Capitolinus  " 
represents  the  generic  essence  of  the  Roman  Empire,  which  is 
also  personified  in  the  divinities  "  Roma  "  and  "  Fortuna  Pub- 
lica." 

It  was  the  Romans  especially  who  introduced  the  practice  of 
not  merely  supplicating  the  gods  in  time  of  need,  and  celebrating 
"  lectisternia,"  but  of  also  making  solemn  promises  and  vows 
to  them.  For  help  in  difficulty  they  sent  even  into  foreign  coun- 
tries, and  imported  foreign  divinities  and  rites.  The  introduc- 
tion of  the  gods  and  most  of  the  Roman  temples  thus  arose 
from  necessity — from  a  vow  of  some  kind,  and  an  obligatory,  not 
disinterested  acknowledgment  of  favors.  The  Greeks  on  the 
contrary  erected  and  instituted  their  beautiful  temples,  and 
statues,  and  rites,  from  love  to  beauty  and  divinity  for  their  own 
sake. 

Only  one  side  of  the  Roman  religion  exhibits  something  at- 
tractive, and  that  is  the  festivals,  which  bear  a  relation  to  coun- 
try life,  and  whose  observance  was  transmitted  from  the  earliest 
times.  The  idea  of  the  Satumian  time  is  partly  their  basis — the 
conception  of  a  state  of  things  antecedent  to  and  beyond  the 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 


293 


limits  of  civil  society  and  political  combination;  but  their  import 
is  partly  taken  from  Nature  generally — the  Sun,  the  course  of 
the  year,  the  seasons,  months,  etc.,  (with  astronomical  intima- 
tions)— partly  from  the  particular  aspects  of  the  course  of  Nat- 
ure, as  bearing  upon  pastoral  and  agricultural  life.  There  were 
festivals  of  sowing  and  harvesting  and  of  the  seasons ;  the  prin- 
cipal was  that  of  the  Saturnalia,  etc.  In  this  aspect  there  appears 
much  that  is  naive  and  ingenuous  in  the  tradition.  Yet  this 
series  of  rites,  on  the  whole,  presents  a  very  limited  and  prosaic 
appearance;  deeper  views  of  the  great  powers  of  nature  and 
their  generic  processes  are  notdeducible  from  them ;  for  they  are 
entirely  directed  to  external  vulgar  advantage,  and  the  merri- 
ment they  occasioned,  degenerated  into  a  buffoonery  unrelieved 
by  intellect.  While  among  the  Greeks  their  tragic  art  developed 
itself  from  similar  rudiments,  it  is  on  the  other  hand  remarkable 
that  among  the  Romans  the  scurrilous  dances  and  songs  con- 
nected with  the  rural  festivals  were  kept  up  till  the  latest  periods 
without  any  advance  from  this  naive  but  rude  form  to  any- 
thing really  artistic. 

It  has  already  been  said  that  the  Romans  adopted  the  Greek 
Gods,  (the  mythology  of  the  Roman  poets  is  entirely  derived 
from  the  Greeks) ;  but  the  worship  of  these  beautiful  gods  of  the 
imagination  appears  to  have,  been  among  them  of  a  very  cold 
and  superficial  order.  Their  talk  of  Jupiter,  Juno,  Minerva 
sounds  like  a  mere  theatrical  mention  of  them.  The  Greeks 
made  their  Pantheon  the  embodiment  of  a  rich  intellectual  ma- 
terial, and  adorned  it  with  bright  fancies;  it  was  to  them  an 
object  calling  forth  continual  invention  and  exciting  thoughtful 
reflection ;  and  an  extensive,  nay  inexhaustible,  treasure  has  thus 
been  created  for  sentiment,  feeling  and  thought  in  their  mythol- 
ogy. The  Spirit  of  the  Romans  did  not  indulge  and  delight  itself 
in  that  play  of  a  thoughtful  fancy;  the  Greek  mythology  appears 
lifeless  and  exotic  in  their  hands.  Among  the  Roman  poets — 
especially  Virgil — the  introduction  of  the  gods  is  the  product  of 
a  frigid  Understanding  and  of  imitation.  The  gods  are  used  in 
these  poems  as  machinery,  and  in  a  merely  superficial  way;  re- 
garded much  in  the  same  way  as  in  our  didactic  treatises  on  the 
belles-lettres,  where  among  other  directions  we  find  one  relating 
to  the  use  of  such  machinery  in  epics — in  order  to  produce 
astonishment. 

The  Romans  were  as  essentially  different  from  the  Greeks  in 


294  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

respect  to  their  public  games.  In  these  the  Romans  were,  prop- 
erly speaking,  only  spectators.  The  mimetic  and  theatrical 
representation,  the  dancing,  foot-racing  and  wrestling,  they  left 
to  manumitted  slaves,  gladiators,  or  criminals  condemned  to 
death.  Nero's  deepest  degradation  was  his  appearing  on  a  pub- 
lic stage  as  a  singer,  lyrist  and  combatant.  As  the  Romans  were 
only  spectators,  these  diversions  were  something  foreign  to 
them;  they  did  not  enter  into  them  with  their  whole  souls. 
With  increasing  luxury  the  taste  for  the  baiting  of  beasts  and 
men  became  particularly  keen.  Hundreds  of  bears,  lions,  tigers, 
elephants,  crocodiles,  and  ostriches,  were  produced,  and  slaugh- 
tered for  mere  amusement.  A  body  consisting  of  hundreds,  nay 
thousands  of  gladiators,  when  entering  the  amphitheatre  at  a 
certain  festival  to  engage  in  a  sham  sea-fight,  addressed  the  Em- 
peror with  the  words:  "  Those  who  are  devoted  to  death  salute 
thee,"  to  excite  some  compassion.  In  vain!  the  whole  were 
devoted  to  mutual  slaughter.  In  place  of  human  sufferings  in 
the  depths  of  the  soul  and  spirit,  occasioned  by  the  contradic- 
tions of  life,  and  which  find  their  solution  in  Destiny,  the  Ro- 
mans instituted  a  cruel  reality  of  corporeal  sufferings :  blood  in 
streams,  the  rattle  in  the  throat  which  signals  death,  and  the 
expiring  gasp  were  the  scenes  that  delighted  them. — This  cold 
negativity  of  naked  murder  exhibits  at  the  same  time  that  mur- 
der of  all  spiritual  objective  aim  which  had  taken  place  in  the 
soul.  I  need  only  mention,  in  addition,  the  auguries,  auspices, 
and  Sibylline  books,  to  remind  you  how  fettered  the  Romans 
were  by  superstitions  of  all  kinds,  and  how  they  pursued  ex- 
clusively their  own  aims  in  all  the  observances  in  question.  The 
entrails  of  beasts,  flashes  of  lightning,  the  flight  of  birds,  the 
Sibylline  dicta  determined  the  administration  and  projects  of 
the  State.  All  this  was  in  the  hands  of  the  patricians,  who 
consciously  made  use  of  it  as  a  mere  outward  [non-spiritual, 
secular]  means  of  constraint  to  further  their  own  ends  and 
oppress  the  people. 

The  distinct  elements  of  Roman  religion  are,  according  to 
what  has  been  said,  subjective  religiosity  and  a  ritualism  having 
for  its  object  purely  superficial  external  aims.  Secular  aims 
are  left  entirely  free,  instead  of  being  limited  by  religion — in 
fact  they  are  rather  justified  by  it.  The  Romans  are  invariably 
pious,  whatever  may  be  the  substantial  character  of  their  actions. 
But  as  the  sacred  principle  here  is  nothing  but  an  empty  form,  it 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  295 

is  exactly  of  such  a  kind  that  it  can  be  an  instrument  in  the 
power  of  the  devotee;  it  is  taken  possession  of  by  the  individual, 
who  seeks  his  private  objects  and  interests ;  whereas  the  truly 
Divine  possesses  on  the  contrary  a  concrete  power  in  itself.  But 
where  there  is  only  a  powerless  form,  the  individual — the  Will, 
possessing  an  independent  concreteness  able  to  make  that  form 
its  own,  and  render  it  subservient  to  its  views — stands  above  it. 
This  happened  in  Rome  on  the  part  of  the  patricians.  The 
possession  of  sovereignty  by  the  patricians  is  thereby  made  firm, 
sacred,  incommunicable,  peculiar:  the  administration  of  gov- 
ernment, and  political  privileges,  receive  the  character  of  hal- 
lowed private  property.  There  does  not  exist  therefore  a  sub- 
stantial national  unity — not  that  beautiful  and  moral  necessity  of 
united  life  in  the  Polis ;  but  every  "  gens  "  is  itself  firm,  stern, 
having  its  own  Penates  and  sacra ;  each  has  it  own  political  char- 
acter, which  it  always  preserves :  strict,  aristocratic  severity  dis- 
tinguished the  Claudii;  benevolence  towards  the  people,  the 
Valerii;  nobleness  of  spirit,  the  Cornelii.  Separation  and  limita- 
tion were  extended  even  to  marriage,  for  the  connubia  of  patri- 
cians with  plebeians  were  deemed  profane.  But  in  that  very 
subjectivity  of  religion  we  find  also  the  principle  of  arbitrariness : 
and  while  on  the  one  hand  we  have  arbitrary  choice  invoking 
religion  to  bolster  up  private  possession,  we  have  on  the  other 
hand  the  revolt  of  arbitrary  choice  against  religion.  For  the 
same  order  of  things  can,  on  the  one  side,  be  regarded  as  priv- 
ileged by  its  religious  form,  and  on  the  other  side  wear  the 
aspect  of  being  merely  a  matter  of  choice — of  arbitrary  volition 
on  the  part  of  man.  When  the  time  was  come  for  it  to  be  de- 
graded to  the  rank  of  a  mere  form,  it  was  necessarily  known 
and  treated  as  a  form — trodden  under  foot — represented  as 
formalism. — The  inequality  which  enters  into  the  domain  of 
sacred  things  forms  the  transition  from  religion  to  the  bare  real- 
ity of  political  life.  The  consecrated  inequality  of  will  and  of 
private  property  constitutes  the  fundamental  condition  of  the 
change.  The  Roman  principle  admits  of  aristocracy  alone  as  the 
constitution  proper  to  it,  but  which  directly  manifests  itself  only 
in  an  antithetical  form — internal  inequality.  Only  from  neces- 
sity and  the  pressure  of  adverse  circumstances  is  this  contradic- 
tion momentarily  smoothed  over;  for  it  involves  a  duplicate 
power,  the  sternness  and  malevolent  isolation  of  whose  com- 
ponents can  only  be  mastered  and  bound  together  by  a  still 
(greater  sternness,  into  a  unity  maintained  by  force. 


296  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

Chapter  II. — The  History  of  Rome  to  the  Second  Punic  War 

In  the  first  period,  several  successive  stages  display  their  char- 
acteristic varieties.  The  Roman  State  here  exhibits  its  first 
phase  of  growth,  under  Kings;  then  it  receives  a  republican  con- 
stitution, at  whose  head  stand  Consuls.  The  struggle  between 
patricians  and  plebeians  begins ;  and  after  this  has  been  set  at 
rest  by  the  concession  of  the  plebeian  demands,  there  ensues  a 
state  of  contentment  in  the  internal  affairs  of  Rome,  and  it  ac- 
quires strength  to  combat  victoriously  with  the  nation  that  pre- 
ceded it  on  the  stage  of  general  history.  As  regards  the  accounts 
of  the  first  Roman  kings,  every  datum  has  met  with  flat  contra- 
diction as  the  result  of  criticism;  but  it  is  going  too  far  to  deny 
them  all  credibility.  Seven  kings  in  all,  are  mentioned  by  tradi- 
tion; and  even  the  "  Higher  Criticism  "  is  obliged  to  recognize 
the  last  links  in  the  series  as  perfectly  historical.  Romulus  is 
called  the  founder  of  this  union  of  freebooters;  he  organized  it 
into  a  military  state.  Although  the  traditions  respecting  him 
appear  fabulous,  they  only  contain  what  is  in  accordance  with 
the  Roman  Spirit  as  above  described.  To  the  second  king, 
Numa,  is  ascribed  the  introduction  of  the  religious  ceremonies. 
This  trait  is  very  remarkable  from  its  implying  that  religion  was 
introduced  later  than  political  union,  while  among  other  peoples 
religious  traditions  make  their  appearance  in  the  remotest 
periods  and  before  all  civil  institutions.  The  king  was  at  the 
same  time  a  priest  (rex  is  referred  by  etymologists  to  pe&tv — 
to  sacrifice.  As  is  the  case  with  states  generally,  the  Political 
was  at  first  united  with  the  Sacerdotal,  and  a  theocratical  state  of 
things  prevailed.  The  King  stood  here  at  the  head  of  those  who 
enjoyed  privileges  in  virtue  of  the  sacra. 

The  separation  of  the  distinguished  and  powerful  citizens  as 
senators  and  patricians  took  place  as  early  as  the  first  kings. 
Romulus  is  said  to  have  appointed  ioo  patrcs,  respecting  which 
however  the  Higher  Criticism  is  sceptical.  In  religion,  arbitrary 
ceremonies — the  sacra — became  fixed  marks  of  distinction,  and 
peculiarities  of  the  gentes  and  orders.  The  internal  organization 
of  the  State  was  gradually  realized.  Livy  says  that  as  Numa 
established  all  divine  matters,  so  Servius  Tullius  introduced  the 
different  Classes,  and  the  Census,  according  to  which  the  share 
of  each  citizen  in  the  administration  of  public  affairs  was  deter- 
mined.   The  patricians  were  discontented  with  this  scheme,  es- 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  297 

pecially  because  Servius  Tullius  abolished  a  part  of  the  debts 
owed  by  the  plebeians,  and  gave  public  lands  to  the  poorer  citi- 
zens, which  made  them  possessors  of  landed  property.  He 
divided  the  people  into  six  classes,  of  which  the  first  together 
with  the  knights  formed  ninety-eight  centuries,  the  inferior 
classes  proportionately  fewer.  Thus,  as  they  voted  by  centuries, 
the  class  first  in  rank  had  also  the  greatest  weight  in  the  State. 
It  appears  that  previously  the  patricians  had  the  power  exclu- 
sively in  their  hands,  but  that  after  Servius's  division  they  had 
merely  a  preponderance;  which  explains  their  discontent  with 
his  institutions.  With  Servius  the  history  becomes  more  dis- 
tinct ;  and  under  him  and  his  predecessor,  the  elder  Tarquinius, 
traces  of  prosperity  are  exhibited.  Niebuhr  is  surprised  that 
according  to  Dionysius  and  Livy,  the  most  ancient  constitution 
was  democratic,  inasmuch  as  the  vote  of  every  citizen  had  equal 
weight  in  the  assembly  of  the  people.  But  Livy  only  says  that 
Servius  abolished  the  suifragium  viritim.  Now  in  the  comitia 
curiata — the  cliental  relation,  which  absorbed  the  plebs,  extend- 
ing to  all — the  patricians  alone  had  a  vote,  and  papulus  denoted 
at  that  time  only  the  patricians.  Dionysius  therefore  does  not 
contradict  himself,  when  he  says  that  the  constitution  according 
to  the  laws  of  Romulus  was  strictly  aristocratic. 

Almost  all  the  Kings  were  foreigners — a  circumstance  very 
characteristic  of  the  origin  of  Rome.  Numa,  who  succeeded  the 
founder  of  Rome,  was  according  to  the  tradition,  one  of  the 
Sabines — a  people  which  under  the  reign  of  Romulus,  led  by 
Tatius,  is  said  to  have  settled  on  one  of  the  Roman  hills.  At  a 
later  date  however  the  Sabine  country  appears  as  a  region  en- 
tirely separated  from  the  Roman  State.  Numa  was  followed  by 
Tullus  Hostilius,  and  the  very  name  of  this  king  points  to  his 
foreign  origin.  Ancus  Martins,  the  fourth  king,  was  the  grand- 
son of  Numa.  Tarquinius  Priscus  sprang  from  a  Corinthian 
family,  as  we  had  occasion  to  observe  above.  Servius  Tullius 
was  from  Corniculum,  a  conquered  Latin  town;  Tarquinius 
Superbus  was  descended  from  the  elder  Tarquinius.  Under  this 
last  king  Rome  reached  a  high  degree  of  prosperity :  even  at  so 
early  a  period  as  this,  a  commercial  treaty  is  said  to  have  been 
concluded  with  the  Carthaginians;  and  to  be  disposed  to  reject 
this  as  mythical  would  imply  forgetfulness  of  the  connection 
which  Rome  had,  even  at  that  time,  with  the  Etrurians  and  other 
bordering  peoples  whose  prosperity  depended  on  trade  andmari- 


298  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

time  pursuits.  The  Romans  were  probably  even  then  acquainted 
with  the  art  of  writing,  and  already  possessed  that  clear- 
sighted comprehension  which  was  their  remarkable  character- 
istic, and  which  led  to  that  perspicuous  historical  composition 
for  which  they  are  famous. 

In  the  growth  of  the  inner  life  of  the  state,  the  power  of  the 
Patricians  had  been  much  reduced;  and  the  kings  often  courted 
the  support  of  the  people — as  we  see  was  frequently  the  case 
in  the  mediaeval  history- of  Europe — in  order  to  steal  a  march 
upon  the  Patricians.  We  have  already  observed  this  in  Servius 
Tullius.  The  last  king,  Tarquinius  Superbus,  consulted  the 
senate  but  little  in  state  affairs;  he  also  neglected  to  supply  the 
place  of  its  deceased  members,  and  acted  in  every  respect  as  if 
he  aimed  at  its  utter  dissolution.  Then  ensued  a  state  of  political 
excitement  which  only  needed  an  occasion  to  break  out  into 
open  revolt.  An  insult  to  the  honor  of  a  matron — the  invasion 
of  that  sanctum  sanctorum — by  the  son  of  the  king,  supplied 
such  an  occasion.  The  kings  were  banished  in  the  year  244 
of  the  City  and  510  of  the  Christian  Era  (that  is,  if  the  building 
of  Rome  is  to  be  dated  753  B.C.)  and  the  royal  dignity  abolished 
forever. 

The  Kings  were  expelled  by  the  patricians,  not  by  the  ple- 
beians; if  therefore  the  patricians  are  to  be  regarded  as  pos- 
sessed of  "  divine  right "  as  being  a  sacred  race,  it  is  worthy 
of  note  that  we  find  them  here  contravening  such  legitimation ; 
for  the  King  was  their  High  Priest.  We  observe  on  this  occa- 
sion with  what  dignity  the  sanctity  of  marriage  was  invested 
in  the  eyes  of  the  Romans.  The  principle  of  subjectivity  and 
piety  (pudor)  was  with  them  the  religious  and  guarded  ele- 
ment; and  its  violation  becomes  the  occasion  of  the  expulsion 
of  the  Kings,  and  later  on  of  the  Decemvirs  too.  We  find 
monogamy  therefore  also  looked  upon  by  the  Romans  as  an 
understood  thing.  It  was  not  introduced  by  an  express  law; 
we  have  nothing  but  an  incidental  testimony  in  the  Institutes, 
where  it  is  said  that  marriages  under  certain  conditions  of  re- 
lationship are  not  allowable,  because  a  man  may  not  have  two 
wives.  It  is  not  until  the  reign  of  Diocletian  that  we  find  a 
law  expressly  determining  that  no  one  belonging  to  the  Roman 
empire  may  have  two  wives,  "  since  according  to  a  pretorian 
edict  also,  infamy  attaches  to  such  a  condition  "  (cum  etiam  in 
edict  0  prat  oris  hujusmodi  viri  infamia  notati  sunt).     Monog- 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 


299 


amy  therefore  is  regarded  as  naturally  valid,  and  is  based  on 
the  principle  of  subjectivity. — Lastly,  we  must  also  observe  that 
royalty  was  not  abrogated  here  as  in  Greece  by  suicidal  de- 
struction on  the  part  of  the  royal  races,  but  was  exterminated 
in  hate.  The  King,  himself  the  chief  priest,  had  been  guilty 
of  the  grossest  profanation;  the  principle  of  subjectivity  re- 
volted against  the  deed,  and  the  patricians,  thereby  elevated 
to  a  sense  of  independence,  threw  off  the  yoke  of  royalty.  Pos- 
sessed by  the  same  feeling,  the  plebs  at  a  later  date  rose  against 
the  patricians,  and  the  Latins  and  the  Allies  against  the  Ro- 
mans ;  until  the  equality  of  the  social  units  was  restored  through 
the  whole  Roman  dominion  (a  multitude  of  slaves,  too,  being 
emancipated)  and  they  were  held  together  by  simple  Despot- 
ism. 

Livy  remarks  that  Brutus  hit  upon  the  right  epoch  for  the 
expulsion  of  the  kings,  for  that  if  it  had  taken  place  earlier, 
the  state  would  have  suffered  dissolution.  What  would  have 
happened,  he  asks,  if  this  homeless  crowd  had  been  liberated 
earlier,  when  living  together  had  not  yet  produced  a  mutual 
conciliation  of  dispositions? — The  constitution  now  became  in 
name  republican.  If  we  look  at  the  matter  more  closely  it  is 
evident  (Livy  ii.  1)  that  no  other  essential  change  took  place 
than  the  transference  of  the  power  which  was  previously  per- 
manent in  the  King,  to  two  annual  Consuls.  These  two,  equal 
in  power,  managed  military  and  judicial  as  well  as  administra- 
tive business;  for  praetors,  as  supreme  judges,  do  not  appear 
till  a  later  date. 

At  first  all  authority  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  consuls; 
and  at  the  beginning  of  the  republic,  externally  and  internally, 
the  state  was  in  evil  plight.  In  the  Roman  history  a  period 
occurs  as  troubled  as  that  in  the  Greek  which  followed  the 
extinction  of  the  dynasties.  The  Romans  had  first  to  sustain 
a  severe  conflict  with  their  expelled  King,  who  had  sought  and 
found  help  from  the  Etrurians.  In  the  war  against  Porsena 
the  Romans  lost  all  their  conquests,  and  even  their  indepen- 
dence :  they  were  compelled  to  lay  down  their  arms  and  to  give 
hostages;  according  to  an  expression  of  Tacitus  (Hist.  3,  72) 
it  seems  as  if  Porsena  had  even  taken  Rome.  Soon  after  the 
expulsion  of  the  Kings  we  have  the  contest  between  the  patri- 
cians and  plebeians ;  for  the  abolition  of  royalty  had  taken  place 

exclusively  to  the  advantage  of  the  aristocracy,  to  which  the 
Vol.   23  N— Classics 


3oo  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

royal  power  was  transferred,  while  the  plebs  lost  the  protection 
which  the  Kings  had  afforded  it.  All  magisterial  and  juridical 
power,  and  all  property  in  land  was  at  this  time  in  the  hands 
of  the  patricians;  while  the  people,  continually  dragged  out 
to  war,  could  not  employ  themselves  in  peaceful  occupations: 
handicrafts  could  not  flourish,  and  the  only  acquisition  the  ple- 
beians could  make  was  their  share  in  the  booty.  The  patricians 
had  their  territory  and  soil  cultivated  by  slaves,  and  assigned 
some  of  their  land  to  their  clients,  who  on  condition  of  paying 
taxes  and  contributions — as  tenant  cultivators,  therefore — had 
the  usufruct  of  it.  This  relation,  on  account  of  the  form  in 
which  the  dues  were  paid  by  the  Clientes,  was  very  similar  to 
vassalage :  they  were  obliged  to  give  contributions  towards  the 
marriage  of  the  daughters  of  the  Patronus,  to  ransom  him  or 
his  sons  when  in  captivity,  to  assist  them  in  obtaining  magis- 
terial offices,  and  to  make  up  the  losses  sustained  in  suits  at 
law.  The  administration  of  justice  was  likewise  in  the  hands 
of  the  patricians,  and  that  without  the  limitations  of  definite 
and  written  laws;  a  desideratum  which  at  a  later  period  the 
Decemvirs  were  created  to  supply.  All  the  power  of  govern- 
ment belonged  moreover  to  the  patricians,  for  they  were  in 
possession  of  all  offices — first  of  the  consulship,  afterwards  of 
the  military  tribuneship  and  censorship  (instituted  a.u.c.  311) 
- — by  which  the  actual  administration  of  government  as  like- 
wise the  oversight  of  it,  was  left  to  them  alone.  Lastly,  it  was 
the  patricians  who  constituted  the  Senate.  The  question  as  to 
how  that  body  was  recruited  appears  very  important.  But  in 
this  matter  no  systematic  plan  was  followed.  Romulus  is  said 
to  have  founded  the  senate,  consisting  then  of  one  hundred 
members;  the  succeeding  kings  increased  this  number,  and 
Tarquinius  Priscus  fixed  it  at  three  hundred.  Junius  Brutus 
restored  the  senate,  which  had  very  much  fallen  away,  de  novo. 
In  after  times  it  would  appear  that  the  censors  and  sometimes 
the  dictators  filled  up  the  vacant  places  in  the  senate.  In  the 
second  Punic  War,  a.u.c.  538,  a  dictator  was  chosen,  who  nomi- 
nated one  hundred  and  seventy-seven  new  senators :  he  selected 
those  who  had  been  invested  with  curule  dignities,  the  plebeian 
iEdiles,  Tribunes  of  the  People  and  Quaestors,  citizens  who  had 
gained  spolia  opima  or  the  corona  civica.  Under  Caesar  the  num- 
ber of  the  senators  was  raised  to  eight  hundred ;  Augustus  reduced 
it  to  six  hundred.  It  has  been  regarded  as  great  negligence  on  the 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  301 

part  of  the  Roman  historians,  that  they  give  us  so  little  infor- 
mation respecting  the  composition  and  redintegration  of  the 
senate.  But  this  point  which  appears  to  us  to  be  invested 
with  infinite  importance,  was  not  of  so  much  moment  to  the 
Romans  at  large ;  they  did  not  attach  so  much  weight  to  formal 
arrangements,  for  their  principal  concern  was,  how  the  gov- 
ernment was  conducted.  How  in  fact  can  we  suppose  the  con- 
stitutional rights  of  the  ancient  Romans  to  have  been  so  well 
defined,  and  that  at  a  time  which  is  even  regarded  as  mythical, 
and  its  traditionary  history  as  epical? 

The  people  were  in  some  such  oppressed  condition  as,  e.g. 
the  Irish  were  a  few  years  ago  in  the  British  Isles,  while  they 
remained  at  the  same  time  entirely  excluded  from  the  govern- 
ment. Often  they  revolted  and  made  a  secession  from  the  city. 
Sometimes  they  also  refused  military  service;  yet  it  always 
remains  a  very  striking  fact  that  the  senate  could  so  long  resist 
superior  numbers  irritated  by  oppression  and  practised  in  war; 
for  the  main  struggle  lasted  for  more  than  a  hundred  years. 
In  the  fact  that  the  people  could  so  long  be  kept  in  check  is 
manifested  its  respect  for  legal  order  and  the  sacra.  But  of 
necessity  the  plebeians  at  last  secured  their  righteous  demands, 
and  their  debts  were  often  remitted.  The  severity  of  the  patri- 
cians their  creditors,  the  debts  due  to  whom  they  had  to  dis- 
charge by  slave- work,  drove  the  plebs  to  revolts.  At  first  it 
demanded  and  received  only  what  it  had  already  enjoyed  under 
the  kings — landed  property  and  protection  against  the  power- 
ful. It  received  assignments  of  land,  and  Tribunes  of  the 
People — functionaries  that  is  to  say,  who  had  the  power  to 
put  a  veto  on  every  decree  of  the  senate.  When  this  office 
commenced,  the  number  of  tribunes  was  limited  to  two:  later 
there  were  ten  of  them;  which  however  was  rather  injurious 
to  the  plebs,  since  all  that  the  senate  had  to  do  was  to  gain 
over  one  of  the  tribunes,  in  order  to  thwart  the  purpose  of  all 
the  rest  by  his  single  opposition.  The  plebs  obtained  at  the 
same  time  the  provocatio  ad  populum:  that  is,  in  every  case  of 
magisterial  oppression,  the  condemned  person  might  appeal 
to  the  decision  of  the  people — a  privilege  of  infinite  importance 
to  the  plebs,  and  which  especially  irritated  the  patricians.  At 
the  repeated  desire  of  the  people  the  Decemviri  were  nominated 
—the  Tribunate  of  the  People  being  suspended — to  supply  the 
desideratum  of  a  determinate  legislation;    they  perverted,  as 


302 


PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 


is  well  known,  their  unlimited  power  to  tyranny;  and  were 
driven  from  power  on  an  occasion  entailing  similar  disgrace 
to  that  which  led  to  the  punishment  of  the  Kings.  The  de- 
pendence of  the  clientela  was  in  the  meantime  weakened ;  after 
the  decemviral  epoch  the  clientes  are  less  and  less  prominent 
and  are  merged  in  the  plebs,  which  adopts  resolutions  (plebis- 
cita)  ;  the  senate  by  itself  could  only  issue  senatus  consulta, 
and  the  tribunes,  as  well  as  the  senate,  could  now  impede  the 
comitia  and  elections.  By  degrees  the  plebeians  effected  their 
admissibility  to  all  dignities  and  offices ;  but  at  first  a  plebeian 
consul,  sedile,  censor,  etc.,  was  not  equal  to  the  patrician  one, 
on  account  of  the  sacra  which  the  latter  kept  in  his  hands ;  and 
a  long  time  intervened  after  this  concession  before  a  plebeian 
actually  became  a  consul.  It  was  the  tribunus  plebis,  Licinius, 
who  established  the  whole  cycle  of  these  political  arrangements 
— in  the  second  half  of  the  fourth  century,  a.u.c.  387.  It 
was  he  also  who  chiefly  commenced  the  agitation  for  the  lex 
agraria,  respecting  which  so  much  has  been  written  and  debated 
among  the  learned  of  the  day.  The  agitators  for  this  law  ex- 
cited during  every  period  very  great  commotions  in  Rome.  The 
plebeians  were  practically  excluded  from  almost  all  the  landed 
property,  and  the  object  of  the  Agrarian,  Laws  was  to  provide 
lands  for  them — partly  in  the  neighborhood  of  Rome,  partly 
in  the  conquered  districts,  to  which  colonies  were  to  be  then 
led  out.  In  the  time  of  the  Republic  we  frequently  see  military 
leaders  assigning  lands  to  the  people;  but  in  every  case  they 
were  accused  of  striving  after  royalty,  because  it  was  the  kings 
who  had  exalted  the  plebs.  The  Agrarian  Law  required  that 
no  citizen  should  possess  more  than  five  hundred  jugera:  the 
patricians  were  consequently  obliged  to  surrender  a  large  part 
of  their  property.  Niebuhr  in  particular  has  undertaken  ex- 
tensive researches  respecting  the  agrarian  laws,  and  has  con- 
ceived himself  to  have  made  great  and  important  discoveries: 
he  says,  viz.  that  an  infringement  of  the  sacred  right  of  prop- 
erty was  never  thought  of,  but  that  the  state  had  only  assigned 
a  portion  of  the  public  lands  for  the  use  of  the  plebs,  having 
always  had  the  right  of  disposing  of  them  as  its  own  property. 
I  only  remark  in  passing  that  Hegewisch  had  made  this  dis- 
covery before  Niebuhr,  and  that  Niebuhr  derived  the  particular 
data  on  which  his  assertion  rests  from  Appian  and  Plutarch ; 
that  is  from  Greek  authors,  respecting  whom  he  himself  allows 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  303 

that  we  should  have  recourse  to  them  only  in  an  extreme  case. 
How  often  does  Livy,  as  well  as  Cicero  and  others,  speak  of 
the  Agrarian  laws,  while  nothing  definite  can  be  inferred  from 
their  statements ! — This  is  another  proof  of  the  inaccuracy 
of  the  Roman  historians.  The  whole  affair  ends  in  nothing  but 
a  useless  question  of  jurisprudence.  The  land  which  the  patri- 
cians had  taken  into  possession  or  in  which  colonies  settled, 
was  originally  public  land;  but  it  also  certainly  belonged  to 
those  in  possession,  and  our  information  is  not  at  all  promoted 
by  the  assertion  that  it  always  remained  public  land.  This 
discovery  of  Niebuhr's  turns  upon  a  very  immaterial  distinc- 
tion, existing  perhaps  in  his  ideas,  but  not  in  reality. — The 
Licinian  law  was  indeed  carried,  but  soon  transgressed  and 
utterly  disregarded.  Licinius  Stolo  himself,  who  had  first 
"  agitated  "  for  the  law,  was  punished  because  he  possessed 
a  larger  property  in  land  than  was  allowed,  and  the  patricians 
opposed  the  execution  of  the  law  with  the  greatest  obstinacy. 
We  must  here  call  especial  attention  to  the  distinction  which 
exists  between  the  Roman,  the  Greek,  and  our  own  circum- 
stances. Our  civil  society  rests  on  other  principles,  and  in  it 
such  measures  are  not  necessary.  Spartans  and  Athenians, 
who  had  not  arrived  at  such  an  abstract  idea  of  the  State  as 
was  so  tenaciously  held  by  the  Romans,  did  not  trouble  them- 
selves with  abstract  rights,  but  simply  desired  that  the  citizens 
should  have  the  means  of  subsistence;  and  they  required  of 
the  state  that  it  should  take  care  that  such  should  be  the  case. 
This  is  the  chief  point  in  the  first  period  of  Roman  History 
— that  the  plebs  attained  the  right  of  being  eligible  to  the 
higher  political  offices,  and  that  by  a  share  which  they  too 
managed  to  obtain  in  the  land  and  soil,  the  means  of  subsis- 
tence were  assured  to  the  citizens.  By  this  union  of  the 
patriciate  and  the  plebs,  Rome  first  attained  true  internal  con- 
sistency ;  and  only  after  this  had  been  realized  could  the  Roman 
power  develop  itself  externally.  A  period  of  satisfied  absorp- 
tion in  the  common  interest  ensues,  and  the  citizens  are  weary 
of  internal  struggles.  When  after  civil  discords  nations  direct 
their  energies  outward,  they  appear  in  their  greatest  strength ; 
for  the  previous  excitement  continues,  and  no  longer  having  its 
object  within,  seeks  for  it  without.  This  direction  given  to 
the  Roman  energies  was  able  for  a  moment  to  conceal  the 
defect  of  that  union ;  equilibrium  was  restored,  but  without  an 


3°4 


PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 


essential  centre  of  unity  and  support.  The  contradiction  that 
existed  could  not  but  break  out  again  fearfully  at  a  later  period ; 
but  previously  to  this  time  the  greatness  of  Rome  had  to  display 
itself  in  war  and  the  conquest  of  the  world.  The  power,  the 
wealth,  the  glory  derived  from  these  wars,  as  also  the  difficul- 
ties to  which  they  led,  kept  the  Romans  together  as  regards 
the  internal  affairs  of  the  state.  Their  courage  and  discipline 
secured  their  victory.  As  compared  with  the  Greek  or  Mace- 
donian, the  Roman  art  of  war  has  special  peculiarities.  The 
strength  of  the  phalanx  lay  in  its  mass  and  in  its  massive  char- 
acter. The  Roman  legions  also  present  a  close  array,  but  they 
had  at  the  same  time  an  articulated  organization:  they  united 
the  two  extremes  of  massiveness  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  dis- 
persion into  light  troops  on  the  other  hand:  they  held  firmly 
together,  while  at  the  same  time  they  were  capable  of  ready 
expansion.  Archers  and  slingers  preceded  the  main  body  of 
the  Roman  army  when  they  attacked  the  enemy — afterwards 
leaving  the  decision  to  the  sword. 

It  would  be  a  wearisome  task  to  pursue  the  wars  of  the  Ro- 
mans in  Italy;  partly  because  they  are  in  themselves  unim- 
portant— even  the  often  empty  rhetoric  of  the  generals  in  Livy 
cannot  very  much  increase  the  interest — partly  on  account  of 
the  unintelligent  character  of  the  Roman  annalists,  in  whose 
pages  we  see  the  Romans  carrying  on  war  only  with  "  enemies  " 
without  learning  anything  further  of  their  individuality — e.g. 
the  Etruscans,  the  Samnites,  the  Ligurians,  with  whom  they 
carried  on  wars  during  many  hundred  years. — It  is  singular  in 
regard  to  these  transactions  that  the  Romans,  who  have  the 
justification  conceded  by  World-History  on  their  side,  should 
also  claim  for  themselves  the  minor  justification  in  respect  to 
manifestoes  and  treaties  on  occasion  of  minor  infringements 
of  them,  and  maintain  it  as  it  were  after  the  fashion  of  advo- 
cates. But  in  political  complications  of  this  kind,  either  party 
may  take  offence  at  the  conduct  of  the  other,  if  it  pleases,  and 
deems  it  expedient  to  be  offended. — The  Romans  had  long  and 
severe  contests  to  maintain  with  the  Samnites,  the  Etruscans, 
the  Gauls,  the  Marsi,  the  Umbrians  and  the  Bruttii,  before  they 
could  make  themselves  masters  of  the  whole  of  Italy.  Their 
dominion  was  extended  thence  in  a  southerly  direction ;  they 
gained  a  secure  footing  in  Sicily,  where  the  Carthaginians  had 
long  carried  on  war;   then  they  extended  their  power  towards 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  305 

the  west :  from  Sardinia  and  Corsica  they  went  to  Spain.  They 
thus  soon  came  into  frequent  contact  with  the  Carthaginians, 
and  were  obliged  to  form  a  naval  power  in  opposition  to  them. 
This  transition  was  easier  in  ancient  times  than  it  would  per- 
haps be  now,  when  long  practice  and  superior  knowledge  are 
required  for  maritime  service.  The  mode  of  warfare  at  sea  was 
not  very  different  from  that  on  land. 

We  have  thus  reached  the  end  of  the  first  epoch  of  Roman 
History,  in  which  the  Romans  by  their  retail  military  transac- 
tions had  become  capitalists  in  a  strength  proper  to  themselves, 
and  with  which  they  were  to  appear  on  the  theatre  of  the  world. 
The  Roman  dominion  was,  on  the  whole,  not  yet  very  greatly 
extended:  only  a  few  colonies  had  settled  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Po,  and  on  the  south  a  considerable  power  confronted 
that  of  Rome.  It  was  the  Second  Punic  War,  therefore,  that 
gave  the  impulse  to  its  terrible  collision  with  the  most  powerful 
states  of  the  time;  through  it  the  Romans  came  into  contact 
with  Macedonia,  Asia,  Syria,  and  subsequently  also  with  Egypt. 
Italy  and  Rome  remained  the  centre  of  their  great  far-stretch- 
ing empire,  but  this  centre  was,  as  already  remarked,  not  the 
less  an  artificial,  forced,  and  compulsory  one.  This  grand 
period  of  the  contact  of  Rome  with  other  states,  and  of  the 
manifold  complications  thence  arising,  has  been  depicted  by 
the  noble  Achaean,  Polybius,  whose  fate  it  was  to  observe  the 
fall  of  his  country  through  the  disgraceful  passions  of  the 
Greeks  and  the  baseness  and  inexorable  persistency  of  the  Ro- 
mans. 


SECTION  I! 

ROME  FROM  THE  SECOND  PUNIC  WAR  TO  THE 
EMPERORS 

THE  second  period,  according  to  our  division,  begins  with 
the  Second  Punic  War,  that  epoch  which  decided  and 
stamped  a  character  upon  Roman  dominion.  In  the 
first  Punic  War  the  Romans  had  shown  that  they  had  become  a 
match  for  the  mighty  Carthage,  which  possessed  a  great  part 
of  the  coast  of  Africa  and  southern  Spain,  and  had  gained  a 
firm  footing  in  Sicily  and  Sardinia.  The  second  Punic  War 
laid  the  might  of  Carthage  prostrate  in  the  dust.  The  proper 
element  of  that  state  was  the  sea ;  but  it  had  no  original  terri- 
tory, formed  no  nation,  had  no  national  army;  its  hosts  were 
composed  of  the  troops  of  subjugated  and  allied  peoples.  In 
spite  of  this,  the  great  Hannibal  with  such  a  host,  formed  from 
the  most  diverse  nations,  brought  Rome  near  to  destruction. 
Without  any  support  he  maintained  his  position  in  Italy  for 
sixteen  years  against  Roman  patience  and  perseverance;  dur- 
ing which  time  however  the  Scipios  conquered  Spain  and  en- 
tered into  alliances  with  the  princes  of  Africa.  Hannibal  was 
at  last  compelled  to  hasten  to  the  assistance  of  his  hard-pressed 
country;  he  lost  the  battle  of  Zama  in  the  year  552  a.u.c.  and 
after  six  and  thirty  years  revisited  his  paternal  city,  to  which 
he  was  now  obliged  to  offer  pacific  counsels.  The  second  Punic 
War  thus  eventually  established  the  undisputed  power  of  Rome 
over  Carthage;  it  occasioned  the  hostile  collision  of  the  Ro- 
mans with  the  king  of  Macedonia,  who  was  conquered  five 
years  later.  Now  Antiochus,  the  king  of  Syria,  is  involved  in 
the  melee.  He  opposed  a  huge  power  to  the  Romans,  was 
beaten  at  Thermopylae  and  Magnesia,  and  was  compelled  to 
surrender  to  the  Romans  Asia  Minor  as  far  as  the  Taurus. 
After  the  conquest  of  Macedonia  both  that  country  and  Greece 
were  declared  free  by  the  Romans — a  declaration  whose  mean- 

306 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  307 

ing  we  have  already  investigated,  in  treating  of  the  preceding 
Historical  nation.  It  was  not  till  this  time  that  the  Third 
Punic  War  commenced,  for  Carthage  had  once  more  raised  its 
head  and  excited  the  jealousy  of  the  Romans.  After  long  re- 
sistance it  was  taken  and  laid  in  ashes.  Nor  could  the  Achaean 
league  now  long  maintain  itself  in  the  face  of  Roman  ambition : 
the  Romans  were  eager  for  war,  destroyed  Corinth  in  the  same 
year  as  Carthage,  and  made  Greece  a  province.  The  fall  of 
Carthage  and  the  subjugation  of  Greece  were  the  central  points 
from  which  the  Romans  gave  its  vast  extent  to  their  sover- 
eignty. 

Rome  seemed  now  to  have  attained  perfect  security;  no 
external  power  confronted  it:  she  was  the  mistress  of  the 
Mediterranean — that  is  of  the  media  terra  of  all  civilization. 
In  this  period  of  victory,  its  morally  great  and  fortunate  per- 
sonages, especially  the  Scipios,  attract  our  attention.  They 
were  morally  fortunate — although  the  greatest  of  the  Scipios 
met  with  an  end  outwardly  unfortunate — because  they  devoted 
their  energies  to  their  country  during  a  period  when  it  enjoyed 
a  sound  and  unimpaired  condition.  But  after  the  feeling  of 
patriotism — the  dominant  instinct  of  Rome — had  been  satisfied, 
destruction  immediately  invades  the  state  regarded  en  masse; 
the  grandeur  of  individual  character  becomes  stronger  in  in- 
tensity, and  more  vigorous  in  the  use  of  means,  on  account  of 
contrasting  circumstances.  We  see  the  internal  contradiction 
of  Rome  now  beginning  to  manifest  itself  in  another  form; 
and  the  epoch  which  concludes  the  second  period  is  also  the 
second  mediation  of  that  contradiction.  We  observed  that  con- 
tradiction previously  in  the  struggle  of  the  patricians  against 
the  plebeians :  now  it  assumes  the  form  of  private  interest,  con- 
travening patriotic  sentiment ;  and  respect  for  the  state  no  lon- 
ger holds  these  opposites  in  the  necessary  equipoise.  Rather, 
we  observe  now  side  by  side  with  wars  for  conquest,  plunder 
and  glory,  the  fearful  spectacle  of  civil  discords  in  Rome,  and1 
intestine  wars.  There  does  not  follow,  as  among  the  Greeks 
after  the  Median  wars,  a  period  of  brilliant  splendor  in  culture, 
art  and  science,  in  which  Spirit  enjoys  inwardly  and  ideally 
that  which  it  had  previously  achieved  in  the  world  of  action. 
If  inward  satisfaction  was  to  follow  the  period  of  that  external 
prosperity  in  war,  the  principle  of  Roman  life  must  be  more 
concrete.    But  if  there  were  such  a  concrete  life  to  evolve  as 


jo8  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

an  object  of  consciousness  from  the  depths  of  their  souls  by 
imagination  and  thought,  what  would  it  have  been !  Their 
chief  spectacles  were  triumphs,  the  treasures  gained  in  war,  and 
captives  from  all  nations,  unsparingly  subjected  to  the  yoke  of 
abstract  sovereignty.  The  concrete  element,  which  the  Romans 
actually  find  within  themselves,  is  only  this  unspiritual  unity, 
and  any  definite  thought  or  feeling  of  a  non-abstract  kind,  can 
lie  only  in  the  idiosyncrasy  of  individuals.  The  tension  of 
virtue  is  now  relaxed,  because  the  danger  is  past.  At  the  time 
of  the  first  Punic  War,  necessity  united  the  hearts  of  all  for  the 
saving  of  Rome.  In  the  following  wars  too,  with  Macedonia, 
Syria,  and  the  Gauls  in  Upper  Italy,  the  existence  of  the  entire 
state  was  still  concerned.  But  after  the  danger  from  Carthage 
and  Macedon  was  over,  the  subsequent  wars  were  more  and 
more  the  mere  consequences  of  victories,  and  nothing  else  was 
needed  than  to  gather  in  their  fruits.  The  armies  were  used  for 
particular  expeditions,  suggested  by  policy,  or  for  the  advan- 
tages of  individuals — for  acquiring  wealth,  glory,  sovereignty 
in  the  abstract.  The  relation  to  other  nations  was  purely  that 
of  force.  The  national  individuality  of  peoples  did  not,  as 
early  as  the  time  of  the  Romans,  excite  respect,  as  is  the  case 
in  modern  times.  The  various  peoples  were  not  yet  recognized 
as  legitimated;  the  various  states  had  not  yet  acknowledged 
each  other  as  real  essential  existences.  Equal  right  to  existence 
entails  a  union  of  states,  such  as  exists  in  modern  Europe,  or 
a  condition  like  that  of  Greece,  in  which  the  states  had  an  equal 
right  to  existence  under  the  protection  of  the  Delphic  god.  The 
Romans  do  not  enter  into  such  a  relation  to  the  other  nations, 
for  their  god  is  only  the  Jupiter  Capitolinus ;  neither  do  they 
respect  the  sacra  of  the  other  nations  (any  more  than  the  ple- 
beians those  of  the  patricians)  ;  but  as  conquerors  in  the  strict 
sense  of  the  term,  they  plunder  the  Palladia  of  the  nations. 
Rome  kept  standing  armies  in  the  conquered  provinces,  and 
proconsuls  and  propraetors  were  sent  into  them  as  viceroys. 
The  Equites  collected  the  taxes  and  tributes,  which  they  farmed 
under  the  State.  A  net  of  such  fiscal  farmers  ( public ani)  was 
thus  drawn  over  the  whole  Roman  world. — Cato  used  to  say, 
after  every  deliberation  of  the  senate :  "  Ceterum  censeo  Car- 
ihagmem  esse  delendam:"  and  Cato  was  a  thorough  Roman. 
The  Roman  principle  thereby  exhibits  itself  as  the  cold  abstrac- 
tion of  sovereignty  and  power,  as  the  pure  egotism  of  the  will 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 


309 


in  opposition  to  others,  involving  no  moral  element  of  deter- 
mination, but  appearing  in  a  concrete  form  only  in  the  shape 
of  individual  interests.  Increase  in  the  number  of  provinces 
issued  in  the  aggrandizement  of  individuals  within  Rome  itself, 
and  the  corruption  thence  arising.  From  Asia,  luxury  and 
debauchery  were  brought  to  Rome.  Riches  flowed  in  after  the 
fashion  of  spoils  in  war,  and  were  not  the  fruit  of  industry  and 
honest  activity ;  in  the  same  way  as  the  marine  had  arisen,  not 
from  the  necessities  of  commerce,  but  with  a  warlike  object. 
The  Roman  state,  drawing  its  resources  from  rapine,  came  to 
be  rent  in  sunder  by  quarrels  about  dividing  the  spoil.  For  the 
first  occasion  of  the  breaking  out  of  contention  within  it  was 
the  legacy  of  Attalus,  King  of  Pergamus,  who  had  bequeathed 
his  treasures  to  the  Roman  State.  Tiberius  Gracchus  came 
forward  with  the  proposal  to  divide  it  among  the  Roman  citi- 
zens; he  likewise  renewed  the  Licinian  Agrarian  laws,  which 
had  been  entirely  set  aside  during  the  predominance  of  indi- 
viduals in  the  state.  His  chief  object  was  to  procure  property 
for  the  free  citizens,  and  to  people  Italy  with  citizens  instead 
of  slaves.  This  noble  Roman,  however,  was  vanquished  by  the 
grasping  nobles,  for  the  Roman  constitution  was  no  longer  in 
a  condition  to  be  saved  by  the  constitution  itself.  Caius  Grac- 
chus, the  brother  of  Tiberius,  prosecuted  the  same  noble  aim 
as  his  brother,  and  shared  the  same  fate.  Ruin  now  broke  in 
unchecked,  and  as  there  existed  no  generally  recognized  and 
absolutely  essential  object  to  which  the  country's  energy  could 
be  devoted,  individualities  and  physical  force  were  in  the  as- 
cendant. The  enormous  corruption  of  Rome  displays  itself 
in  the  war  with  Jugurtha,  who  had  gained  the  senate  by  bri- 
bery, and  so  indulged  himself  in  the  most  atrocious  deeds  of 
violence  and  crime.  Rome  was  pervaded  by  the  excitement  of 
the  struggle  against  the  Cimbri  and  Teutones,  who  assumed 
a  menacing  position  towards  the  State.  With  great  exertions 
the  latter  were  utterly  routed  in  Provence,  near  Aix ;  the  others 
in  Lombardy  at  the  Adige  by  Marius  the  conqueror  of  Ju- 
gurtha. Then  the  Italian  allies,  whose  demand  of  Roman  citi- 
zenship had  been  refused,  raised  a  revolt;  and  while  the  Ro- 
mans had  to  sustain  a  struggle  against  a  vast  power  in  Italy, 
they  received  the  news  that,  at  the  command  of  Mithridates, 
80,000  Romans  had  been  put  to  death  in  Asia  Minor.  Mith- 
ridates was  King  of  Pontus,  governed  Colchis  and  the  lands 


gio 


PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 


of  the  Black  Sea,  as  far  as  the  Tauric  peninsula,  and  could 
summon  to  his  standard  in  his  war  with  Rome  the  populations 
of  the  Caucasus,  of  Armenia,  Mesopotamia,  and  a  part  of  Syria, 
through  his  son-in-law  Tigranes.  Sulla,  who  had  already  led 
the  Roman  hosts  in  the  Social  War,  conquered  him.  Athens, 
which  had  hitherto  been  spared,  was  beleaguered  and  taken, 
but  "  for  the  sake  of  their  fathers  " — as  Sulla  expressed  himself 
— not  destroyed.  He  then  returned  to  Rome,  reduced  the  pop- 
ular faction,  headed  by  Marius  and  Cinna,  became  master  of 
the  city,  and  commenced  systematic  massacres  of  Roman  citi- 
zens of  consideration.  Forty  senators  and  six  hundred  knights 
were  sacrificed  to  his  ambition  and  lust  of  power. 

Mithridates  was  indeed  defeated,  but  not  overcome,  and 
was  able  to  begin  the  war  anew.  At  the  same  time,  Sertorius, 
a  banished  Roman,  arose  in  revolt  in  Spain,  carried  on  a  contest 
there  for  eight  years,  and  perished  only  through  treachery. 
The  war  against  Mithridates  was  terminated  by  Pompey ;  the 
King  of  Pontus  killed  himself  when  his  resources  were  ex- 
hausted. The  Servile  War  in  Italy  is  a  contemporaneous  event. 
A  great  number  of  gladiators  and  mountaineers  had  formed  a 
union  under  Spartacus,  but  were  vanquished  by  Crassus.  To 
this  confusion  was  added  the  universal  prevalence  of  piracy, 
which  Pompey  rapidly  reduced  by  a  large  armament. 

We  thus  see  the  most  terrible  and  dangerous  powers  arising 
against  Rome ;  yet  the  military  force  of  this  state  is  victorious 
over  all.  Great  individuals  now  appear  on  the  stage  as  during 
the  times  of  the  fall  of  Greece.  The  biographies  of  Plutarch 
are  here  also  of  the  deepest  interest.  It  was  from  the  disrup- 
tion of  the  state,  which  had  no  longer  any  consistency  or  firm- 
ness in  itself,  that  these  colossal  individualities  arose,  instinc- 
tively impelled  to  restore  that  political  unity  which  was  no 
longer  to  be  found  in  men's  dispositions.  It  was  their  misfor- 
tune that  they  could  not  maintain  a  pure  morality,  for  their 
course  of  action  contravened  things  as  they  are,  and  was  a  series 
of  transgressions.  Even  the  noblest — the  Gracchi — were  not 
merely  the  victims  of  injustice  and  violence  from  without,  but 
were  themselves  involved  in  the  corruption  and  wrong  that 
universally  prevailed.  But  that  which  these  individuals  pur- 
pose and  accomplish  has  on  its  side  the  higher  sanction  of  the 
World-Spirit,  and  must  eventually  triumph.  The  idea  of  an 
organization  for  the  vast  empire  being  altogether  absent,  the 


THE   ROMAN    WORLD  31  x 

senate  could  not  assert  the  authority  of  government.  The  sov- 
ereignty was  made  dependent  on  the  people — that  people  which 
was  now  a  mere  mob,  and  was  obliged  to  be  supported  by  corn 
from  the  Roman  provinces.  We  should  refer  to  Cicero  to  see 
how  all  affairs  of  state  were  decided  in  riotous  fashion,  and 
with  arms  in  hand,  by  the  wealth  and  power  of  the  grandees 
on  the  one  side,  and  by  a  troop  of  rabble  on  the  other.  The 
Roman  citizens  attached  themselves  to  individuals  who  flattered 
them,  and  who  then  became  prominent  in  factions,  in  order 
to  make  themselves  masters  of  Rome.  Thus  we  see  in  Pompey 
and  Caesar  the  two  foci  of  Rome's  splendor  coming  into  hostile 
opposition :  on  the  one  side,  Pompey  with  the  Senate,  and 
therefore  apparently  the  defender  of  the  Republic — on  the 
other,  Caesar  with  his  legions  and  a  superiority  of  genius.  This 
contest  between  the  two  most  powerful  individualities  could 
not  be  decided  at  Rome  in  the  Forum.  Caesar  made  himself 
master  in  succession,  of  Italy,  Spain,  and  Greece,  utterly  routed 
his  enemy  at  Pharsalia,  forty-eight  years  before  Christ,  made 
himself  sure  of  Asia,  and  so  returned  victor  to  Rome. 

In  this  way  the  world-wide  sovereignty  of  Rome  became 
the  property  of  a  single  possessor.  This  important  change 
must  not  be  regarded  as  a  thing  of  chance;  it  was  necessary 
— postulated  by  the  circumstances.  The  democratic  constitu- 
tion could  no  longer  be  really  maintained  in  Rome,  but  only 
kept  up  in  appearance.  Cicero,  who  had  procured  himself  great 
respect  through  his  high  oratorical  talent,  and  whose  learning 
acquired  him  considerable  influence,  always  attributes  the  cor- 
rupt state  of  the  republic  to  individuals  and  their  passions. 
Plato,  whom  Cicero  professedly  followed,  had  the  full  con- 
sciousness that  the  Athenian  state,  as  it  presented  itself  to  him, 
could  not  maintain  its  existence,  and  therefore  sketched  the 
plan  of  a  perfect  constitution  accordant  with  his  views.  Cicero, 
on  the  contrary,  does  not  consider  it  impossible  to  preserve  the 
Roman  Republic,  and  only  desiderates  some  temporary  as- 
sistance for  it  in  its  adversity.  The  nature  of  the  State,  and 
of  the  Roman  State  in  particular,  transcends  his  comprehen- 
sion. Cato,  too,  says  of  Caesar :  "  His  virtues  be  execrated, 
for  they  have  ruined  my  country ! "  But  it  was  not  the  mere 
accident  of  Caesar's  existence  that  destroyed  the  Republic — it 
was  Necessity.  All  the  tendencies  of  the  Roman  principle  were 
to  sovereignty  and  military  force :  it  contained  in  it  no  spiritual 


3i2  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

centre  which  it  could  make  the  object,  occupation,  and  enjoy- 
ment of  its  Spirit.  The  aim  of  patriotism — that  of  preserving 
the  State— ceases  when  the  lust  of  personal  dominion  becomes 
the  impelling  passion.  The  citizens  were  alienated  from  the 
state,  for  they  found  in  it  no  objective  satisfaction;  and  the 
interests  of  individuals  did  not  take  the  same  direction  as  among 
the  Greeks,  who  could  set  against  the  incipent  corruption  of 
the  practical  world,  the  noblest  works  of  art  in  painting,  sculpt- 
ure and  poetry,  and  especially  a  highly  cultivated  philosophy. 
Their  works  of  art  were  only  what  they  had  collected  from 
every  part  of  Greece,  and  therefore  not  productions  of  their 
own;  their  riches  were  not  the  fruit  of  industry,  as  was  the 
case  in  Athens,  but  the  result  of  plunder.  Elegance — Culture 
— was  foreign  to  the  Romans  per  se;  they  sought  to  obtain  it 
from  the  Greeks,  and  for  this  purpose  a  vast  number  of  Greek 
slaves  were  brought  to  Rome.  Delos  was  the  centre  of  this 
slave  trade,  and  it  is  said  that  sometimes  on  a  single  day,  ten 
thousand  slaves  were  purchased  there.  To  the  Romans,  Greek 
slaves  were  their  poets,  their  authors,  the  superintendents  of 
their  manufactories,  the  instructors  of  their  children. 

The  Republic  could  not  longer  exist  in  Rome.  We  see,  espe- 
cially from  Cicero's  writings,  how  all  public  affairs  were  de- 
cided by  the  private  authority  of  the  more  eminent  citizens — 
by  their  power,  their  wealth;  and  what  tumultuary  proceed- 
ings marked  all  political  transactions.  In  the  republic,  there- 
fore, there  was  no  longer  any  security;  that  could  be  looked 
for  only  in  a  single  will.  Caesar,  who  may  be  adduced  as  a 
paragon  of  Roman  adaptation  of  means  to  ends — who  formed 
his  resolves  with  the  most  unerring  perspicuity,  and  executed 
them  with  the  greatest  vigor  and  practical  skill,  without  any 
superfluous  excitement  of  mind — Caesar,  judged  by  the  great 
scope  of  history,  did  the  Right ;  since  he  furnished  a  mediating 
element,  and  that  kind  of  political  bond  which  men's  condition 
required.  Caesar  effected  two  objects :  he  calmed  the  internal 
strife,  and  at  the  same  time  originated  a  new  one  outside  the 
limits  of  the  empire.  For  the  conquest  of  the  world  had  reached 
hitherto  only  to  the  circle  of  the  Alps,  but  Caesar  opened  a  new 
scene  of  achievement:  he  founded  the  theatre  which  was  on 
the  point  of  becoming  the  centre  of  History.  He  then  achieved 
universal  sovereignty  by  a  struggle  which  was  decided  not  in 
Rome  itself,  but  by  his  conquest  of  the  whole  Roman  World. 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  313 

His  position  was  indeed  hostile  to  the  republic,  but,  properly- 
speaking,  only  to  its  shadow;  for  all  that  remained  of  that 
republic  was  entirely  powerless.  Pompey,  and  all  those  who 
were  on  the  side  of  the  senate,  exalted  their  dignitas  auctoritas 
— their  individual  rule — as  the  power  of  the  republic ;  and  the 
mediocrity  which  needed  protection  took  refuge  under  this  title. 
Caesar  put  an  end  to  the  empty  formalism  of  this  title,  made 
himself  master,  and  held  together  the  Roman  world  by  force, 
in  opposition  to  isolated  factions.  Spite  of  this  we  see  the 
noblest  men  of  Rome  supposing  Caesar's  rule  to  be  a  merely 
adventitious  thing,  and  the  entire  position  of  affairs  to  be  de- 
pendent on  his  individuality.  So  thought  Cicero,  so  Brutus  and 
Cassius.  They  believed  that  if  this  one  individual  were  out  of 
the  way,  the  Republic  would  be  ipso  facto  restored.  Possessed 
by  this  remarkable  hallucination,  Brutus,  a  man  of  highly 
noble  character,  and  Cassius,  endowed  with  greater  practical 
energy  than  Cicero,  assassinated  the  man  whose  virtues  they 
appreciated.  But  it  became  immediately  manifest  that  only 
a  single  will  could  guide  the  Roman  State,  and  now  the  Ro- 
mans were  compelled  to  adopt  that  opinion ;  since  in  all  periods 
of  the  world  a  political  revolution  is  sanctioned  in  men's  opin- 
ions, when  it  repeats  itself.  Thus  Napoleon  was  twice  defeated, 
and  the  Bourbons  twice  expelled.  By  repetition  that  which  at 
first  appeared  merely  a  matter  of  chance  and  contingency  be- 
comes a  real  and  ratified  existence. 


SECTION  III 

Chapter  I. — Rome  Under  the  Emperors 

DURING  this  period  the  Romans  come  into  contact  with 
the  people  destined  to  succeed  them  as  a  World-Histor- 
ical nation ;  and  we  have  to  consider  that  period  in  two 
essential  aspects,  the  secular  and  the  spiritual.  In  the  secular 
aspect  two  leading  phases  must  be  specially  regarded :  first,  the 
position  of  the  Ruler;  and  secondly,  the  conversion  of  mere 
individuals  into  persons — the  world  of  legal  relations. 

The  first  thing  to  be  remarked  respecting  the  imperial  rule 
is  that  the  Roman  government  was  so  abstracted  from  interest, 
that  the  great  transition  to  that  rule  hardly  changed  anything 
in  the  constitution.  The  popular  assemblies  alone  were  un- 
suited  to  the  new  state  of  things,  and  disappeared.  The  em- 
peror was  princeps  senatus,  Censor,  Consul,  Tribune :  he  united 
all  their  nominally  continuing  offices  in  himself ;  and  the  mili- 
tary power — here  the  most  essentially  important — was  exclu- 
sively in  his  hands.  The  constitution  was  an  utterly  unsub- 
stantial form,  from  which  all  vitality,  consequently  all  might 
and  power,  had  departed ;  and  the  only  means  of  maintaining 
its  existence  were  the  legions  which  the  Emperor  constantly 
kept  in  the  vicinity  of  Rome.  Public  business  was  indeed 
brought  before  the  senate,  and  the  Emperor  appeared  simply 
as  one  of  its  members ;  but  the  senate  was  obliged  to  obey, 
and  whoever  ventured  to  gainsay  his  will  was  punished  with 
death,  and  his  property  confiscated.  Those  therefore  who  had 
certain  death  in  anticipation,  killed  themselves,  that  if  they 
could  do  nothing  more,  they  might  at  least  preserve  their  prop- 
erty to  their  family.  Tiberius  was  the  most  odious  to  the  Ro- 
mans on  account  of  his  power  of  dissimulation :  he  knew  very 
well  how  to  make  good  use  of  the  baseness  of  the  senate,  in 
extirpating  those  among  them  whom  he  feared.  The  power 
of  the  Emperor  rested,  as  we  have  said,  on  the  army,  and  the 
Pretorian  bodyguard  which  surrounded  him.    But  the  legions, 

314 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  315 

and  especially  the  Pretorians,  soon  became  conscious  of  their 
importance,  and  arrogated  to  themselves  the  disposal  of  the 
imperial  throne.  At  first  they  continued  to  show  some  respect 
for  the  family  of  Caesar  Augustus,  but  subsequently  the  legions 
chose  their  own  generals ;  such,  viz.,  as  had  gained  their  good 
will  and  favor,  partly  by  courage  and  intelligence,  partly  also 
by  bribes,  and  indulgence  in  the  administration  of  military  dis- 
cipline. 

The  Emperors  conducted  themselves  in  the  enjoyment  of 
their  power  with  perfect  simplicity,  and  did  not  surround  them- 
selves with  pomp  and  splendor  in  Oriental  fashion.  We  find 
in  them  traits  of  simplicity  which  astonish  us.  Thus,  e.g.,  Au- 
gustus writes  a  letter  to  Horace,  in  which  he  reproaches  him 
for  having  failed  to  address  any  poem  to  him,  and  asks  him 
whether  he  thinks  that  that  would  disgrace  him  with  posterity. 
Sometimes  the  Senate  made  an  attempt  to  regain  its  conse- 
quence by  nominating  the  Emperor:  but  their  nominees  were 
either  unable  to  maintain  their  ground,  or  could  do  so  only 
by  bribing  the  Pretorians.  The  choice  of  the  senators  and 
the  constitution  of  the  senate  was  moreover  left  entirely  to  the 
caprice  of  the  Emperor.  The  political  institutions  were  united 
in  the  person  y.  the  Emperor;  no  moral  bond  any  longer  ex- 
isted ;  the  will  of  the  Emperor  was  supreme,  and  before  him 
there  was  absolute  equality.  The  freedmen  who  surrounded 
the  Emperor  were  often  the  mightiest  in  the  empire;  for  ca- 
price recognizes  no  distinction.  In  the  person  of  the  Emperor 
isolated  subjectivity  has  gained  a  perfectly  unlimited  realiza- 
tion. Spirit  has  renounced  its  proper  nature,  inasmuch  as 
Limitation  of  being  and  of  volition  has  been  constituted  an 
unlimited  absolute  existence.  This  arbitrary  choice,  moreover, 
has  only  one  limit,  the  limit  of  all  that  is  human — death;  and 
even  death  became  a  theatrical  display.  Nero,  e.g.,  died  a 
death,  which  may  furnish  an  example  for  the  noblest  hero,  as 
for  the  most  resigned  of  sufferers.  Individual  subjectivity  thus 
entirely  emancipated  from  control,  has  no  inward  life,  no  pros- 
pective nor  retrospective  emotions,  no  repentance,  nor  hope, 
nor  fear — not  even  thought;  for  all  these  involve  fixed  condi- 
tions and  aims,  while  here  every  condition  is  purely  contingent. 
The  springs  of  action  are  none  other  than  desire,  lust,  passion, 
fancy — in  short,  caprice  absolutely  unfettered.  It  finds  so  little 
limitation  in  the  will  of  others,  that  the  relation  of  will  to  will 


3i6  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

may  be  called  that  of  absolute  sovereignty  to  absolute  slavery. 
In  the  whole  known  world,  no  will  is  imagined  that  is  not  sub- 
ject to  the  will  of  the  Emperor.  But  under  the  sovereignty  of 
that  One,  everything  is  in  a  condition  of  order;  for  as  it  actually 
is  [as  the  Emperor  has  willed  it],  it  is  in  due  order,  and  gov- 
ernment consists  in  bringing  all  into  harmony  with  the  sov- 
ereign One.  The  concrete  element  in  the  character  of  the 
Emperors  is  therefore  of  itself  of  no  interest,  because  the  con- 
crete is  not  of  essential  importance.  Thus  there  were  Empe- 
rors of  noble  character  and  noble  nature,  and  who  highly  dis- 
tinguished themselves  by  mental  and  moral  culture.  Titus, 
Trajan,  the  Antonines,  are  known  as  such  characters,  rigor- 
ously strict  in  self-government;  yet  even  these  produced  no 
change  in  the  state.  The  proposition  was  never  made  during 
their  time,  to  give  the  Roman  Empire  an  organization  of  free 
social  relationship:  they  were  only  a  kind  of  happy  chance, 
which  passes  over  without  a  trace,  and  leaves  the  condition  of 
things  as  it  was.  For  these  persons  find  themselves  here  in  a 
position  in  which  they  cannot  be  said  to  act,  since  no  object  con- 
fronts them  in  opposition ;  they  have  only  to  will — well  or  ill — 
and  it  is  so.  The  praiseworthy  emperors  Vespasian  and  Titus 
were  succeeded  by  that  coarsest  and  most  loathsome  tyrant, 
Domitian :  yet  the  Roman  historian  tells  us  that  the  Roman 
world  enjoyed  tranquillizing  repose  under  him.  Those  single 
points  of  light,  therefore,  effected  no  change ;  the  whole  empire 
was  subject  to  the  pressure  of  taxation  and  plunder ;  Italy  was 
depopulated;  the  most  fertile  lands  remained  untilled:  and 
this  state  of  things  lay  as  a  fate  on  the  Roman  world. 

The  second  point  which  we  have  particularly  to  remark,  is 
the  position  taken  by  individuals  as  persons.  Individuals  were 
perfectly  equal  (slavery  made  only  a  trifling  distinction),  and 
without  any  political  right.  As  early  as  the  termination  of  the 
Social  War,  the  inhabitants  of  the  whole  of  Italy  were  put  on 
an  equal  footing  with  Roman  citizens;  and  under  Caracalla 
all  distinction  between  the  subjects  of  the  entire  Roman  empire 
was  abolished.  Private  Right  developed  and  perfected  this 
equality.  The  right  of  property  had  been  previously  limited 
by  distinctions  of  various  kinds,  which  were  now  abrogated. 
We  observed  the  Romans  proceeding  from  the  principle  of 
abstract  Subjectivity,  which  now  realizes  itself  as  Personality 
in  the  recognition  of  Private  Right.    Private  Right,  viz.,  is  this, 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  317 

that  the  social  unit  as  such  enjoys  consideration  in  the  state, 
in  the  reality  which  he  gives  to  himself — viz.,  in  property.  The 
living  political  body — that  Roman  feeling  which  animated  it  as 
its  soul — is  now  brought  back  to  the  isolation  of  a  lifeless  Pri- 
vate Right.  As,  when  the  physical  body  suffers  dissolution, 
each  point  gains  a  life  of  its  own,  but  which  is  only  the  miser- 
able life  of  worms ;  so  the  political  organism  is  here  dissolved 
into  atoms — viz.,  private  persons.  Such  a  condition  is  Roman 
life  at  this  epoch:  on  the  one  side,  Fate  and  the  abstract  uni- 
versality of  sovereignty;  on  the  other,  the  individual  abstrac- 
tion. "  Person,"  which  involves  the  recognition  of  the  inde- 
pendent dignity  of  the  social  unit — not  on  the  ground  of  the 
display  of  the  life  which  he  possesses — in  his  complete  indi- 
viduality— but  as  the  abstract  individuum. 

It  is  the  pride  of  the  social  units  to  enjoy  absolute  impor- 
tance as  private  persons ;  for  the  Ego  is  thus  enabled  to  assert 
unbounded  claims;  but  the  substantial  interest  thus  compre- 
hended— the  meum — is  only  of  a  superficial  kind,  and  the  de- 
velopment of  private  right,  which  this  high  principle  intro- 
duced, involved  the  decay  of  political  life. — The  Emperor 
domineered  only,  and  could  not  be  said  to  rule;  for  the  equita- 
ble and  moral  medium  between  the  sovereign  and  the  subjects 
was  wanting — the  bond  of  a  cpnstitution  and  organization  of 
the  state,  in  which  a  gradation  of  circles  of  social  life,  enjoying 
independent  recognition,  exists  in  communities  and  provinces, 
which,  devoting  their  energies  to  the  general  interest,  exert  an 
influence  on  the  general  government.  There  are  indeed  Curiae 
in  the  towns,  but  they  are  either  destitute  of  weight,  or  used 
only  as  means  for  oppressing  individuals,  and  for  systematic 
plunder.  That,  therefore,  which  was  abidingly  present  to  the 
minds  of  men  was  not  their  country,  or  such  a  moral  unity  as 
that  supplies:  the  whole  state  of  things  urged  them  to  yield 
themselves  to  fate,  and  to  strive  for  a  perfect  indifference  to 
life — an  indifference  which  they  sought  either  in  freedom  of 
thought  or  in  directly  sensuous  enjoyment.  Thus  man  was 
either  at  war  with  existence,  or  entirely  given  up  to  mere  sensu- 
ous existence.  He  either  recognized  his  destiny  in  the  task 
of  acquiring  the  means  of  enjoyment  through  the  favor  of  the 
Emperor,  or  through  violence,  testamentary  frauds,  and  cun- 
ning ;  or  he  sought  repose  in  philosophy,  which  alone  was  still 
able  to  c,ioply  something  firm  and  independent:    for  the  sys- 


318  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

terns  of  that  time — Stoicism,  Epicureanism,  and  Scepticism — 
although  within  their  Common  sphere  opposed  to  each  other, 
had  the  same  general  purport,  viz.,  rendering  the  soul  abso- 
lutely indifferent  to  everything  which  the  real  world  had  to 
offer.  These  philosophies  were  therefore  widely  extended 
among  the  cultivated :  they  produced  in  man  a  self-reliant  im- 
mobility as  the  result  of  Thought,  i.e.  of  the  activity  which 
produces  the  Universal.  But  the  inward  reconciliation  by 
means  of  philosophy  was  itself  only  an  abstract  one — in  the 
pure  principle  of  personality ;  for  Thought,  which,  as  perfectly 
refined,  made  itself  its  own  object,  and  thus  harmonized  itself, 
was  entirely  destitute  of  a  real  object,  and  the  immobility 
of  Scepticism  made  aimlessness  itself  the  object  of  the  Will. 
This  philosophy  knew  nothing  but  the  negativity  of  all  that 
assumed  to  be  real,  and  was  the  counsel  of  despair  to  a  world 
which  no  longer  possessed  anything  stable.  It  could  not  satisfy 
the  living  Spirit,  which  longed  after  a  higher  reconciliation. 

Chapter  II. — Christianity- 
It  has  been  remarked  that  Caesar  inaugurated  the  Modern 
World  on  the  side  of  reality,  while  its  spiritual  and  inward 
existence  was  unfolded  under  Augustus.  At  the  beginning  of 
that  empire,  whose  principle  we  have  recognized  as  finiteness 
and  particular  subjectivity  exaggerated  to  infinitude,  the  salva- 
tion of  the  World  had  its  birth  in  the  same  principle  of  subjec- 
tivity— viz.,  as  a  particular  person,  in  abstract  subjectivity,  but 
in  such  a  way  that  conversely,  finiteness  is  only  the  form  of  his 
appearance,  while  infinity  and  absolutely  independent  existence 
constitute  the  essence  and  substantial  being  which  it  embodies. 
The  Roman  World,  as  it  has  been  described — in  its  desperate 
condition  and  the  pain  of  abandonment  by  God — came  to  an 
open  rupture  with  reality,  and  made  prominent  the  general 
desire  for  a  satisfaction  such  as  can  only  be  attained  in  "  the 
inner  man,"  the  Soul — thus  preparing  the  ground  for  a  higher 
Spiritual  World.  Rome  was  the  Fate  that  crushed  down  the 
gods  and  all  genial  life  in  its  hard  service,  while  it  was  the 
power  that  purified  the  human  heart  from  all  speciality.  Its 
entire  condition  is  therefore  analogous  to  a  place  of  birth,  and 
its  pain  is  like  the  travail-throes  of  another  and  higher  Spirit, 
which  manifested  itself  in  connection  with  the  Christian  Re- 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 


319 


ligion.  This  higher  Spirit  involves  the  reconciliation  and  eman- 
cipation of  Spirit ;  while  man  obtains  the  consciousness  of  Spirit 
in  its  universality  and  infinity.  The  Absolute  Object,  Truth, 
is  Spirit;  and  as  man  himself  is  Spirit,  he  is  present  [is  mir- 
rored] to  himself  in  that  object,  and  thus  in  his  Absolute  Object 
has  found  Essential  Being  and  his  own  essential  being.*  But 
in  order  that  the  objectivity  of  Essential  Being  may  be  done 
away  with,  and  Spirit  be  no  longer  alien  to  itself — may  be  with 
itself  [self-harmonized] — the  Naturalness  of  Spirit — that  in 
virtue  of  which  man  is  a  special,  empirical  existence — must  be 
removed ;  so  that  the  alien  element  may  be  destroyed,  and  the 
reconciliation  of  Spirit  be  accomplished. 

God  is  thus  recognized  as  Spirit,  only  when  known  as  the 
Triune.  This  new  principle  is  the  axis  on  which  the  History 
of  the  World  turns.  This  is  the  goal  and  the  starting  point  of 
History.  "  When  the  fulness  of  the  time  was  come,  God  sent 
his  Son,"  is  the  statement  of  the  Bible.  This  means  nothing 
else  than  that  self-consciousness  had  reached  the  phases  of  de- 
velopment [Momente],  whose  resultant  constitutes  the  Idea 
of  Spirit,  and  had  come  to  feel  the  necessity  of  comprehending 
those  phases  absolutely.  This  must  now  be  more  fully  ex- 
plained. We  said  of  the  Greeks,  that  the  law  for  their  Spirit 
was :  "  Man,  know  thyself."  .,  The  Greek  Spirit  was  a  con- 
sciousness of  Spirit,  but  under  a  limited  form,  having  the  ele- 
ment of  Nature  as  an  essential  ingredient.  Spirit  may  have 
had  the  upper  hand,  but  the  unity  of  the  superior  and  the 
subordinate  was  itself  still  Natural.  Spirit  appeared  as  spe- 
cialized in  the  idiosyncrasies  of  the  genius  of  the  several  Greek 
nationalities  and  of  their  divinities,  and  was  represented  by  Art, 
in  whose  sphere  the  Sensuous  is  elevated  only  to  the  middle 
ground  of  beautiful  form  and  shape,  but  not  to  pure  Thought. 
The  element  of  Subjectivity  that  was  wanting  to  the  Greeks, 
we  found  among  the  Romans :  but  as  it  was  merely  formal  and 
in  itself  indefinite,  it  took  its  material  from  passion  and  caprice ; 
— even  the  most  shameful  degradations  could  be  here  connected 
with  a  divine  dread  (vide  the  declaration  of  Hispala  respecting 
the  Bacchanalia,  Livy  xxxix.  13).  This  element  of  subjectivity 
is  afterwards  further  realized  as  Personality  of  Individuals — 

*  The  harsh  requirements  of  an  un-  thing  short  of  perfection  ensues — con- 
genial tyranny  call  forth  man's  highest  sciousness  of  sin;  and  this  sentiment  in 
powers  of  self-sacrifice;  he  learns  his  its  greatest  intensity,  produces  union 
moral  capacity;  dissatisfaction  with  any-  with  God. — Ed. 


32o  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

a  realization  which  is  exactly  adequate  to  the  principle,  and  is 
equally  abstract  and  formal.  As  such  an  Ego  [such  a  person- 
ality], I  am  infinite  to  myself,  and  my  phenomenal  existence 
consists  in  the  property  recognized  as  mine,  and  the  recognition 
of  my  personality.  This  inner  existence  goes  no  further;  all 
the  applications  of  the  principle  merge  in  this.  Individuals  are 
thereby  posited  as  atoms ;  but  they  are  at  the  same  time  subject 
to  the  severe  rule  of  the  One,  which  as  monas  monadum  is  a 
power  over  private  persons  [the  connection  between  the  ruler 
and  the  ruled  is  not  mediated  by  the  claim  of  Divine  or  of  Con- 
stitutional Right,  or  any  general  principle,  but  is  direct  and 
individual,  the  Emperor  being  the  immediate  lord  of  each  sub- 
ject in  the  Empire] .  That  Private  Right  is  therefore,  ipso  facto, 
a  nullity,  an  ignoring  of  the  personality;  and  the  supposed 
condition  of  Right  turns  out  to  be  an  absolute  destitution  of  it. 
This  contradiction  is  the  misery  of  the  Roman  World.  Each 
person  is,  according  to  the  principle  of  his  personality,  entitled 
only  to  possesion,  while  the  Person  of  Persons  lays  claim  to 
the  possession  of  all  these  individuals,  so  that  the  right  assumed 
by  the  social  unit  is  at  once  abrogated  and  robbed  of  validity. 
But  the  misery  of  this  contradiction  is  the  Discipline  of  the 
World.  "  Zucht  "  (discipline)  is  derived  from  "  Ziehen  "  (to 
draw).*  This  "  drawing  "  must  be  towards  something;  there 
must  be  some  fixed  unity  in  the  background  in  whose  direction 
that  drawing  takes  place,  and  for  which  the  subject  of  it  is 
being  trained,  in  order  that  the  standard  of  attainment  may  be 
reached.  A  renunciation,  a  disaccustoming,  is  the  means  of 
leading  to  an  absolute  basis  of  existence.  That  contradiction 
which  afflicts  the  Roman  World  is  the  very  state  of  things 
which  constitutes  such  a  discipline — the  discipline  of  that  cult- 
ure which  compels  personality  to  display  its  nothingness.  But 
it  is  reserved  for  us  of  a  later  period  to  regard  this  as  a  train- 
ing; to  those  who  are  thus  trained  [traines,  dragged],  it  seems 
a  blind  destiny,  to  which  they  submit  in  the  stupor  of  suffering. 
The  higher  condition,  in  which  the  soul  itself  feels  pain  and 
longing — in  which  man  is  not  only  "  drawn,"  but  feels  that 
the  drawing  is  into  himself  [into  his  own  inmost  nature]  — 
is  still  absent.  What  has  been  reflection  on  our  part  must  arise 
in  the  mind  of  the  subject  of  this  discipline  in  the  form  of 
a  consciousness  that  in  himself  he  is  miserable  and  null.    Out- 

*  So  the  English  "  train  "  from  French  "  trainer  "—to  draw  or  drag.— Ed. 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 


321 


ward  suffering  must,  as  already  said,  be  merged  in  a  sorrow 
of  the  inner  man.  He  must  feel  himself  as  the  negation  of 
himself ;  he  must  see  that  his  misery  is  the  misery  of  his  nature 
— that  he  is  in  himself  a  divided  and  discordant  being.  This 
state  of  mind,  this  self-chastening,  this  pain  occasioned  by  our 
individual  nothingness — the  wretchedness  of  our  [isolated] 
self,  and  the  longing  to  transcend  this  condition  of  soul — must 
be  looked  for  elsewhere  than  in  the  properly  Roman  World. 
It  is  this  which  gives  to  the  Jewish  People  their  World-Histori- 
cal importance  and  weight;  for  from  this  state  of  mind  arose 
that  higher  phase  in  which  Spirit  came  to  absolute  self-con- 
sciousness— passing  from  that  alien  form  of  being  which  is 
its  discord  and  pain,  and  mirroring  itself  in  its  own  essence. 
The  state  of  feeling  in  question  we  find  expressed  most  purely 
and  beautifully  in  the  Psalms  of  David,  and  in  the  Prophets; 
the  chief  burden  of  whose  utterances  is  the  thirst  of  the  soul 
after  God,  its  profound  sorrow  for  its  transgressions,  and  the 
desire  for  righteousness  and  holiness.  Of  this  Spirit  we  have 
the  mythical  representation  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  Jew- 
ish canonical  books,  in  the  account  of  the  Fall.  Man,  created 
in  the  image  of  God,  lost,  it  is  said,  his  state  of  absolute  con- 
tentment, by  eating  of  the  Tree  of  the  Knowledge  of  Good 
and  Evil.  Sin  consists  here  only  in  Knowledge:  this  is  the 
sinful  element,  and  by  it  man  is  stated  to  have  trifled  away 
his  Natural  happiness.  This  is  a  deep  truth,  that  evil  lies  in 
consciousness :  for  the  brutes  are  neither  evil  nor  good ;  the 
merely  Natural  Man  quite  as  little.*  Consciousness  occasions 
the  separation  of  the  Ego,  in  its  boundless  freedom  as  arbitrary 
choice,  from  the  pure  essence  of  the  Will — i.e.  from  the  Good. 
Knowledge,  as  the  disannulling  of  the  unity  of  mere  Nature, 
is  the  "  Fall,"  which  is  no  casual  conception,  but  the  eternal 
history  of  Spirit.  For  the  state  of  innocence,  the  paradisaical 
condition,  is  that  of  the  brute.  Paradise  is  a  park,  where  only 
brutes,  not  men,  can  remain.  For  the  brute  is  one  with  God 
only  implicitly  [not  consciously].  Only  Man's  Spirit  (that  is) 
has  a  self -cognizant  existence.  This  existence  for  self,  this 
consciousness,  is  at  the  same  time  separation  from  the  Uni- 
versal and  Divine  Spirit.  If  I  hold  to  my  abstract  Freedom,  in 
contraposition  to  the  Good,  I  adopt  the  standpoint  of  Evil. 
The  Fall  is  therefore  the  eternal  Mythus  of  Man — in  fact,  the 

*  "  I  was  alive  without  the  law  once,"  etc.    Rom.  vii.  9. 


322  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

very  transition  by  which  he  becomes  man.  Persistence  in  this 
standpoint  is,  however,  Evil,  and  the  feeling  of  pain  at  such 
a  condition,  and  of  longing  to  transcend  it,  we  find  in  David, 
when  he  says :  "  Lord,  create  for  me  a  pure  heart,  a  new  stead- 
fast  Spirit."  This  feeling  we  observe  even  in  the  account  of 
the  Fall;  though  an  announcement  of  Reconciliation  is  not 
made  there,  but  rather  one  of  continuance  in  misery.  Yet  we 
have  in  this  narrative  the  prediction  of  reconciliation  in  the 
sentence,  "  The  serpent's  head  shall  be  bruised  " ;  but  still  more 
profoundly  expressed  where  it  is  stated  that  when  God  saw  that 
Adam  had  eaten  of  that  tree,  he  said,  "  Behold  Adam  is  become 
as  one  of  us,  knowing  Good  and  Evil."  God  confirms  the 
words  of  the  Serpent.  Implicitly  and  explicitly,  then,  we  have 
the  truth,  that  man  through  Spirit — through  cognition  of  the 
Universal  and  the  Particular — comprehends  God  Himself.  But 
it  is  only  God  that  declares  this — not  man :  the  latter  remains, 
on  the  contrary,  in  a  state  of  internal  discord.  The  joy  of 
reconciliation  is  still  distant  from  humanity;  the  absolute  and 
final  repose  of  his  whole  being  is  not  yet  discovered  to  man. 
It  exists,  in  the  first  instance,  only  for  God.  As  far  as  the 
present  is  concerned,  the  feeling  of  pain  at  his  condition  is 
regarded  as  a  final  award.  The  satisfaction  which  man  enjoys 
at  first,  consists  in  the  finite  and  temporal  blessings  conferred 
on  the  Chosen  Family  and  the  possession  of  the  Land  of  Ca- 
naan. His  repose  is  not  found  in  God.  Sacrifices  are,  it  is 
true,  offered  to  Him  in  the  Temple,  and  atonement  made  by 
outward  offerings  and  inward  penitence.  But  that  mundane 
satisfaction  in  the  Chosen  Family,  and  its  possession  of  Canaan, 
was  taken  from  the  Jewish  people  in  the  chastisement  inflicted 
by  the  Roman  Empire.  The  Syrian  kings  did  indeed  oppress 
it,  but  it  was  left  for  the  Romans  to  annul  its  individuality. 
The  Temple  of  Zion  is  destroyed ;  the  God-serving  nation  is 
scattered  to  the  winds.  Here  every  source  of  satisfaction  is 
taken  away,  and  the  nation  is  driven  back  to  the  standpoint 
of  that  primeval  mythus — the  standpoint  of  that  painful  feeling 
which  humanity  experiences  when  thrown  upon  itself.  Op- 
posed to  the  universal  Fatum  of  the  Roman  World,  we  have 
here  the  consciousness  of  Evil  and  the  direction  of  the  mind 
Godwards.  All  that  remains  to  be  done,  is  that  this  funda- 
mental idea  should  be  expanded  to  an  objective  universal  sense, 
and  be  taken  as  the  concrete  existence  of  man — as  the  com- 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  323 

pletion  of  his  nature.  Formerly  the  Land  of  Canaan  and  them- 
selves as  the  people  of  God  had  been  regarded  by  the  Jews  as 
that  concrete  and  complete  existence.  But  this  basis  of  satis- 
faction is  now  lost,  and  thence  arises  the  sense  of  misery  and 
failure  of  hope  in  God,  with  whom  that  happy  reality  had  been 
essentially  connected.  Here,  then,  misery  is  not  the  stupid 
immersion  in  a  blind  Fate,  but  a  boundless  energy  of  longing. 
Stoicism  taught  only  that  the  Negative  is  not — that  pain  must 
not  be  recognized  as  a  veritable  existence ;  but  Jewish  feeling 
persists  in  acknowledging  Reality  and  desires  harmony  and 
reconciliation  within  its  sphere;  for  that  feeling  is  based  on 
the  Oriental  Unity  of  Nature — i.e.,  the  unity  of  Reality,  of 
Subjectivity,  with  the  substance  of  the  One  Essential  Being. 
Through  the  loss  of  mere  outward  reality  Spirit  is  driven  back 
within  itself ;  the  side  of  reality  is  thus  refined  to  Universality, 
through  the  reference  of  it  to  the  One.  The  Oriental  antithesis 
of  Light  and  Darkness  is  transferred  to  Spirit,  and  the  Dark- 
ness becomes  Sin.  For  the  abnegation  of  reality  there  is  no 
compensation  but  Subjectivity  itself — the  Human  Will  as  in- 
trinsically universal ;  and  thereby  alone  does  reconciliation 
become  possible.  Sin  is  the  discerning  of  Good  and  Evil  as 
separation ;  but  this  discerning  likewise  heals  the  ancient  hurt, 
and  is  the  fountain  of  infinite  reconciliation.  The  discerning 
in  question  brings  with  it  the  destruction  of  that  which  is 
external  and  alien  in  consciousness,  and  is  consequently  the 
return  of  Subjectivity  into  itself.  This,  then,  adopted  into 
the  actual  self-consciousness  of  the  World  is  the  Reconciliation 
[atonement]  of  the  World.  From  that  unrest  of  infinite  sor- 
row— in  which  the  two  sides  of  the  antithesis  stand  related  to 
each  other — is  developed  the  unity  of  God  with  Reality  (which 
latter  had  been  posited  as  negative)  i.e.,  with  Subjectivity 
which  had  been  separated  from  Him.  The  infinite  loss  is  coun- 
terbalanced only  by  its  infinity,  and  thereby  becomes  infinite 
gain.  The  recognition  of  the  identity  of  the  Subject  and  God 
was  introduced  into  the  World  when  the  fulness  of  Time  was 
come:  the  consciousness  of  this  identity  is  the  recognition  of 
God  in  his  true  essence.  The  material  of  Truth  is  Spirit  itself 
— inherent  vital  movement.  The  nature  of  God  as  pure  Spirit, 
is  manifested  to  man  in  the  Christian  Religion. 

But  what  is  Spirit?    It  is  the  one  immutably  homogeneous 
Infinite — pure  Identity — which  in  its  second  phase  separates 
Vol.  23  O— Classics 


324  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

itself  from  itself  and  makes  this  second  aspect  its  own  polar 
opposite,  viz.  as  existence  for  and  in  self  as  contrasted  with 
the  Universal.  But  this  separation  is  annulled  by  the  fact 
that  atomistic  Subjectivity,  as  simple  relation  to  itself  [as  oc- 
cupied with  self  alone]  is  itself  the  Universal,  the  Identical 
with  self.  If  Spirit  be  denned  as  absolute  reflection  within 
itself  in  virtue  of  its  absolute  duality — Love  on  the  one  hand 
as  comprehending  the  Emotional  [Empfindung],  Knowledge 
on  the  other  hand  as  Spirit  [including  the  penetrative  and  ac- 
tive faculties,  as  opposed  to  the  receptive] — it  is  recognized 
as  Triune:  the  "  Father "  and  the  "  Son,"  and  that  duality 
which  essentially  characterizes  it  as  "  Spirit."  It  must  further 
be  observed,  that  in  this  truth,  the  relation  of  man.  to  this  truth 
is  also  posited.  For  Spirit  makes  itself  its  own  [polar]  oppo- 
site— and  is  the  return  from  this  opposite  into  itself.  Com- 
prehended in  pure  ideality,  that  antithetic  form  of  Spirit  is  the 
Son  of  God;  reduced  to  limited  and  particular  concep- 
tions, it  is  the  World-Nature  and  Finite  Spirit:  Finite 
Spirit  itself  therefore  is  posited  as  a  constituent  element  [Mo- 
ment] in  the  Divine  Being.  Man  himself  therefore  is  com- 
prehended in  the  Idea  of  God,  and  this  comprehension  may 
be  thus  expressed — that  the  unity  of  Man  with  God  is  posited 
in  the  Christian  Religion.  But  this  unity  must  not  be  super- 
ficially conceived,  as  if  God  were  only  Man,  and  Man,  without 
further  condition,  were  God.  Man,  on  the  contrary,  is  God 
only  in  so  far  as  he  annuls  the  merely  Natural  and  Limited  in 
his  Spirit  and  elevates  himself  to  God.  That  is  to  say,'  it  is 
obligatory  on  him  who  is  a  partaker  of  the  truth,  and  knows 
that  he  himself  is  a  constituent  [Moment]  of  the  Divine  Idea, 
to  give  up  his  merely  natural  being:  for  the  Natural  is  the 
Unspiritual.  In  this  Idea  of  God,  then,  is  to  be  found  also 
the  Reconciliation  that  heals  the  pain  and  inward  suffering  of 
man.  For  Suffering  itself  is  henceforth  recognized  as  an  in- 
strument necessary  for  producing  the  unity  of  man  with  God. 
This  implicit  unity  exists  in  the  first  place  only  for  the  thinking 
speculative  consciousness ;  but  it  must  also  exist  for  the  sensu- 
ous, representative  consciousness — it  must  become  an  object  for 
the  World — it  must  appear,  and  that  in  the  sensuous  form 
appropriate  to  Spirit,  which  is  the  human.  Christ  has  appeared 
— a  Man  who  is  God — God  who  is  Man ;  and  thereby  peace  and 
reconciliation  have  accrued  to  the  World.    Our  thoughts  nat- 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  325 

urally  revert  to  the  Greek  anthropomorphism,  of  which  we 
affirmed  that  it  did  not  go  far  enough.  For  that  natural  elation 
of  soul  which  characterized  the  Greeks  did  not  rise  to  the  Sub- 
jective Freedom  of  the  Ego  itself — to  the  inwardness  that  be- 
longs to  the  Christian  Religion — to  the  recognition  of  Spirit 
as  a  definite  positive  being. — The  appearance  of  the  Christian 
God  involves  further  its  being  unique  in  its  kind ;  it  can  occur 
only  once,  for  God  is  realized  as  Subject,  and  as  manifested 
Subjectivity  is  exclusively  One  Individual.  The  Lamas  are 
ever  and  anon  chosen  anew ;  because  God  is  known  in  the  East 
as  Substance,  whose  infinity  of  form  is  recognized  merely  in  an 
unlimited  multeity  of  outward  and  particular  manifestations. 
But  subjectivity  as  infinite  relation  to  self,  has  its  form  in  itself, 
and  as  manifested,  must  be  a  unity  excluding  all  others. — 
Moreover  the  sensuous  existence  in  which  Spirit  is  embodied 
is  only  a  transitional  phase.  Christ  dies;  only  as  dead,  is  he 
exalted  to  Heaven  and  sits  at  the  right  hand  of  God;  only 
thus  is  he  Spirit.  He  himself  says :  "  When  I  am  no  longer 
with  you,  the  Spirit  will  guide  you  into  all  truth."  Not  till 
the  Feast  of  Pentecost  were  the  Apostles  filled  with  the  Holy 
Ghost.  To  the  Apostles,  Christ  as  living,  was  not  that  which 
he  was  to  them  subsequently  as  the  Spirit  of  the  Church,  in 
which  he  became  to  them  for  the  first  time  an  object  for  their 
truly  spiritual  consciousness.  On  the  same  principle,  we  do 
not  adopt  the  right  point  of  view  in  thinking  of  Christ  only 
as  a  historical  bygone  personality.  So  regarded,  the  question 
is  asked,  What  are  we  to  make  of  his  birth,  his  Father  and 
Mother,  his  early  domestic  relations,  his  miracles,  etc.? — i.e. 
What  is  he  unspiritually  regarded  ?  Considered  only  in  respect 
of  his  talents,  character  and  morality — as  a  Teacher  and  so  forth 
— we  place  him  in  the  same  category  with  Socrates  and  others, 
though  his  morality  may  be  ranked  higher.  But  excellence  of 
character,  morality,  etc. — all  this  is  not  the  ne  plus  ultra  in  the 
requirements  of  Spirit — does  not  enable  man  to  gain  the  specu- 
lative idea  of  Spirit  for  his  conceptive  faculty.  If  Christ  is 
to  be  looked  upon  only  as  an  excellent,  even  impeccable  indi- 
vidual, and  nothing  more,  the  conception  of  the  Speculative 
Idea,  of  Absolute  Truth  is  ignored.  But  this  is  the  desider- 
atum, the  point  from  which  we  have  to  start.  Make  of  Christ 
what  you  will,  exegetically,  critically,  historically — demon- 
strate as  you  please,  how  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  were 


326  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

established  by  Councils  attained  currency  as  the  result  o\ 
this  or  that  episcopal  interest  or  passion,  or  originated  in 
this  or  that  quarter; — let  all  such  circumstances  have  been 
what  they  might — the  only  concerning  question  is :  What  is  the 
Idea  or  the  Truth  in  and  for  itself  ? 

Further,  the  real  attestation  of  the  Divinity  of  Christ  is  the 
witness  of  one's  own  Spirit — not  Miracles;  for  only  Spirit 
recognizes  Spirit.  The  miracles  may  lead  the  way  to  such  rec- 
ognition. A  miracle  implies  that  the  natural  course  of  things  is 
interrupted:  but  it  is  very  much  a  question  of  relation  what 
we  call  the  "  natural  course  " ;  and  the  phenomena  of  the  mag- 
net might  under  cover  of  this  definition,  be  reckoned  miracu- 
lous. Nor  does  the  miracle  of  the  Divine  Mission  of  Christ 
prove  anything;  for  Socrates  likewise  introduced  a  new  self- 
consciousness  on  the  part  of  Spirit,  diverse  from  the  traditional 
tenor  of  men's  conceptions.  The  main  question  is  not  his  Di- 
vine Mission  but  the  revelation  made  in  Christ  and  the  purport 
of  his  mission.  Christ  himself  blames  the  Pharisees  for  desir- 
ing miracles  of  him,  and  speaks  of  false  prophets  who  will  per- 
form miracles. 

We  have  next  to  consider  how  the  Christian  view  resulted 
in  the  formation  of  the  Church.  To  pursue  the  rationale  of  its 
development  from  the  Idea  of  Christianity  would  lead  us  too 
far,  and  we  have  here  to  indicate  only  the  general  phases  which 
the  process  assumed.  The  first  phase  is  the  founding  of  the 
Christian  religion,  in  which  its  principle  is  expressed  with  un- 
restrained energy,  but  in  the  first  instance  abstractly.  This 
we  find  in  the  Gospels,  where  the,  infinity  of  Spirit — its  eleva- 
tion into  the  spiritual  world  [as  the  exclusively  true  and  author- 
ized existence] — is  the  main  theme.  With  transcendent  bold- 
ness does  Christ  stand  forth  among  the  Jewish  people.  "  Blessed 
are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God,"  he  proclaims  in 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount — a  dictum  of  the  noblest  simplicity, 
and  pregnant  with  an  elastic  energy  of  rebound  against  all  the 
adventitious  appliances  with  which  the  human  soul  can  be 
burdened.  The  pure  heart  is  the  domain  in  which  God  is  pres- 
ent to  man :  he  who  is  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  this  apophthegm 
is  armed  against  all  alien  bonds  and  superstitions.  The  other 
utterances  are  of  the  same  tenor :  "  Blessed  are  the  peacemak- 
ers :  for  they  shall  be  called  the  children  of  God ; "  and, 
"  Blessed  are  they  which  are  persecuted  for  righteousness'  sake : 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  327 

for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  "  and,  "  Be  ye  perfect, 
even  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  is  perfect."  Christ 
enforces  here  a  completely  unmistakable  requirement.  The 
infinite  exaltation  of  Spirit  to  absolute  purity  is  placed  at  the 
beginning  as  the  foundation  of  all.  The  form  of  the  instru- 
mentality by  which  that  result  is  to  be  accomplished  is  not  yet 
given,  but  the  result  itself  is  the  subject  of  an  absolute  com- 
mand. As  regards  the  relation  of  this  standpoint  of  Spirit 
to  secular  existence,  we  find  that  spiritual  purity  presented  as 
the  substantial  basis.  "  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and 
his  righteousness,  and  all  things  shall  be  added  unto  you ;  "  and, 
"  The  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not  worthy  to  be  com- 
pared with  that  glory."  *  Here  Christ  says  that  outward  suf- 
ferings, as  such,  are  not  to  be  feared  or  fled  from,  for  they  are 
nothing  as  compared  with  that  glory.  Further  on,  this  doc- 
trine, as  the  natural  consequence  of  its  appearing  in  an  abstract 
form,  assumes  a  polemical  direction.  "  If  thy  right  eye  offend 
thee,  pluck  it  out  and  cast  it  from  thee:  if  thy  right  hand 
offend  thee,  cut  it  off  and  cast  it  from  thee.  It  is  better  that 
one  of  thy  members  should  perish,  and  not  that  thy  whole 
body  should  be  cast  into  hell."  Whatever  might  disturb  the 
purity  of  the  soul,  should  be  destroyed.  So  in  reference  to 
property  and  worldly  gain,  it  is  said :  "  Care  not  for  your  life, 
what  ye  shall  eat  and  drink,  nor  for  your  body,  what  ye  shall 
put  on.  Is  not  the  life  more  than  meat,  and  the  body  more  than 
raiment?  Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air :  for  they  sow  not,  neither 
do  they  reap,  nor  gather  into  barns ;  yet  your  heavenly  Father 
f eedeth  them.  Are  ye  not  much  better  than  they  ?  "  Labor 
for  subsistence  is  thus  reprobated :  "  Wilt  thou  be  perfect,  go 
and  sell  what  thou  hast,  and  give  it  to  the  poor,  so  shalt  thou 
have  a  treasure  in  heaven,  and  come,  follow  me."  Were  this 
precept  directly  complied  with,  a  social  revolution  must  take 
place ;  the  poor  would  become  the  rich.  Of  such  supreme  mo- 
ment, it  is  implied,  is  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  that  all  duties  and 
moral  bonds  are  unimportant  as  compared  with  it.  To  a  youth 
who  wishes  to  delay  the  duties  of  discipleship  till  he  has  buried 
his  father,  Christ  says :  "  Let  the  dead  bury  their  dead — follow 
thou  me."  "  He  that  loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  me  is 
not  worthy  of  me."  He  said :  "  Who  is  my  mother  ?  and  who 
are  my  brethren?  and  stretched  his  hand  out  over  his  disciples 

*  The  words  in  the  text  occur  in  Rom.  viii.  18,  but  the  import  of  Matt.  v.  12,  is 
nearly  the  same. 


328  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

and  said,  Behold  my  mother  and  my  brethren !  For  he  that 
doeth  the  will  of  my  Father  in  heaven,  the  same  is  my  brother, 
and  sister  and  mother."  Yes,  it  is  even  said :  "  Think  not  that 
I  am  come  to  send  peace  on  the  Earth.  I  am  not  come  to  send 
peace  but  the  sword.  For  I  am  come  to  set  a  man  against  his 
father,  and  the  daughter  against  her  mother,  and  the  mother- 
in-law  against  her  daughter-in-law."  Here  then  is  an  abstrac- 
tion from  all  that  belongs  to  reality,  even  from  moral  ties.  We 
may  say  that  nowhere  are  to  be  found  such  revolutionary  utter- 
ances as  in  the  Gospels ;  for  everything  that  had  been  respected, 
is  treated  as  a  matter  of  indifference — as  worthy  of  no  regard. 

The  next  point  is  the  development  of  this  principle;  and 
the  whole  sequel  of  History  is  the  history  of  its  development. 
Its  first  realization  is  the  formation  by  the  friends  of  Christ, 
of  a  Society — a  Church.  It  has  been  already  remarked  that 
only  after  the  death  of  Christ  could  the  Spirit  come  upon  his 
friends ;  that  only  then  were  they  able  to  conceive  the  true  idea 
of  God,  viz.,  that  in  Christ  man  is  redeemed  and  reconciled: 
for  in  him  the  idea  of  eternal  truth  is  recognized,  the  essence 
of  man  acknowledged  to  be  Spirit,  and  the  fact  proclaimed  that 
only  by  stripping  himself  of  his  finiteness  and  surrendering 
himself  to  pure  self-consciousness,  does  he  attain  the  truth. 
Christ — man  as  man — in  whom  the  unity  of  God  and  man  has 
appeared,  has  in  his  death,  and  his  history  generally,  himself 
presented  the  eternal  history  of  Spirit — a  history  which  every 
man  has  to  accomplish  in  himself,  in  order  to  exist  as  Spirit, 
or  to  become  a  child  of  God,  a  citizen  of  his  kingdom.  The 
followers  of  Christ,  who  combine  on  this  principle  and  live  in 
the  spiritual  life  as  their  aim,  form  the  Church,  which  is  the 
Kingdom  of  God.  "  Where  two  or  three  are  gathered  together 
in  my  name  "  (i.e.  "  in  the  character  of  partakers  in  my  being  ") 
says  Christ,  "  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them."  The  Church 
is  a  real  present  life  in  the  Spirit  of  Christ. 

It  is  important  that  the  Christian  religion  be  not  limited 
to  the  teachings  of  Christ  himself:  it  is  in  the  Apostles  that 
the  completed  and  developed  truth  is  first  exhibited.  This 
complex  of  thought  unfolded  itself  in  the  Christian  community. 
That  community,  in  its  first  experiences,  found  itself  sustaining 
a  double  relation — first,  a  relation  to  the  Roman  World,  and 
secondly,  to  the  truth  whose  development  was  its  aim.  We  will 
pursue  these  different  relations  separately. 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 


329 


The  Christian  community  found  itself  in  the  Roman  world, 
and  in  this  world  the  extension  of  the  Christian  religion  was 
to  take  place.  That  community  must  therefore  keep  itself  re- 
moved from  all  activity  in  the  State — constitute  itself  a  separate 
company,  and  not  react  against  the  decrees,  views,  and  trans- 
actions of  the  state.  But  as  it  was  secluded  from  the  state,  and 
consequently  did  not  hold  the  Emperor  for  its  absolute  sover- 
eign, it  was  the  object  of  persecution  and  hate.  Then  was 
manifested  that  infinite  inward  liberty  which  it  enjoyed,  in  the 
great  steadfastness  with  which  sufferings  and  sorrows  were 
patiently  borne  for  the  sake  of  the  highest  truth.  It^was  less 
the  miracles  of  the  Apostles  that  gave  to  Christianity  its  out- 
ward extension  and  inward  strength,  than  the  substance,  the 
truth  of  the  doctrine  itself.  Christ  himself  says :  "  Many  will 
say  to  me  at  that  day:  Lord,  Lord!  have  we  not  prophesied 
in  thy  name,  have  we  not  cast  out  devils  in  thy  name,  have  we 
not  in  thy  name  done  many  wonderful  deeds?  Then  will  I 
profess  unto  them:  I  never  knew  you,  depart  from  me  all  ye 
workers  of  iniquity." 

As  regards  its  other  relation,  viz.,  that  to  the  Truth,  it  is 
especially  important  to  remark  that  the  Dogma — the  Theoreti- 
cal— was  already  matured  within  the  Roman  World,  while  we 
find  the  development  of  the  State  from  that  principle,  a  much 
later  growth.  The  Fathers  of  the  Church  and  the  Councils 
constituted  the  dogma ;  but  a  chief  element  in  this  constitution 
was  supplied  by  the  previous  development  of  philosophy.  Let 
us  examine  more  closely  how  the  philosophy  of  the  time  stood 
related  to  religion.  It  has  already  been  remarked  that  the 
Roman  inwardness  and  subjectivity,  which  presented  itself  only 
abstractly,  as  soulless  personality  in  the  exclusive  position  as- 
sumed by  the  Ego,  was  refined  by  the  philosophy  of  Stoicism 
and  Scepticism  to  the  form  of  Universality.  The  ground  of 
Thought  was  thereby  reached,  and  God  was  known  in  Thought 
as  the  One  Infinite.  The  Universal  stands  here  only  as  an 
unimportant  predicate — not  itself  a  Subject,  but  requiring  a 
concrete  particular  application  to  make  it  such.  But  the  One 
and  Universal,  the  Illimitable  conceived  by  fancy,  is  essentially 
Oriental ;  for  measureless  conceptions,  carrying  all  limited  ex- 
istence beyond  its  proper  bounds,  are  indigenous  to  the  East. 
Presented  in  the  domain  of  Thought  itself,  the  Oriental  One  is 
the  invisible  and  non-sensuous  God  of  the  Israelitish  people, 


33o  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

but  whom  they  also  make  an  object  of  conception  as  a  person. 
This  principle  became  World-Historical  with  Christianity. — 
In  the  Roman  World,  the  union  of  the  East  and  West  had  taken 
place  in  the  first  instance  by  means  of  conquest:  it  took  place 
now  inwardly,  psychologically,  also; — the  Spirit  of  the  East 
spreading  over  the  West.  The  worship  of  Isis  and  that  of 
Mithra  had  been  extended  through  the  whole  Roman  World; 
Spirit,  lost  in  the  outward  and  in  limited  aims,  yearned  after 
an  Infinite.  But  the  West  desired  a  deeper,  purely  inward  Uni- 
versality— an  Infinite  possessed  at  the  same  time  of  positive 
qualitiesv  Again,  it  was  in  Egypt — in  Alexandria,  viz.,  the 
centre  -f  communication  between  the  East  and  the  West — that 
the  problem  of  the  age  was  proposed  for  Thought;  and  the 
solution  now  found  was — Spirit.  There  the  two  principles 
came  into  scientific  contact,  and  were  scientifically  worked  out. 
It  is  especially  remarkable  to  observe  there,  learned  Jews  such 
as  Philo,  connecting  abstract  forms  of  the  concrete,  which  they 
derived  from  Plato  and  Aristotle,  with  their  conception  of  the 
Infinite,  and  recognizing  God  according  to  the  more  concrete 
idea  of  Spirit,  under  the  definition  of  the  Aoyos.  So,  also,  did 
the  profound  thinkers  of  Alexandria  comprehend  the  unity  of 
the  Platonic  and  Aristotelian  Philosophy ;  and  their  speculative 
thinking  attained  those  abstract  ideas  which  are  likewise  the 
fundamental  purport  of  the  Christian  religion.  The  application, 
by  way  of  postulate,  to  the  pagan  religion,  of  ideas  recognized 
as  true,  was  a  direction  which  philosophy  had  already  taken 
among  the  heathen.  Plato  had  altogether  repudiated  the  current 
mythology,  and,  with  his  followers,  was  accused  of  Atheism. 
The  Alexandrians,  on  the  contrary,  endeavored  to  demonstrate 
a  speculative  truth  in  the  Greek  conceptions  of  the  gods:  and 
the  Emperor  Julian  the  Apostate  resumed  the  attempt,  assert- 
ing that  the  pagan  ceremonials  had  a  strict  connection  with 
rationality.  The  heathen  felt,  as  it  were,  obliged  to  give  to 
their  divinities  the  semblance  of  something  higher  than  sensu- 
ous conceptions ;  they  therefore  attempted  to  spiritualize  them. 
Thus  much  is  also  certain,  that  the  Greek  religion  contains  a 
degree  of  Reason ;  for  the  substance  of  Spirit  is  Reason,  and 
its  product  must  be  something  Rational.  It  makes  a  difference, 
however,  whether  Reason  is  explicitly  developed  in  Religion, 
or  merely  adumbrated  by  it,  as  constituting  its  hidden  basis. 
And  while  the  Greeks  thus  spiritualized  their  sensuous  divin- 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD  33X 

ities,  the  Christians  also,  on  their  side,  sought  for  a  profounder 
sense  in  the  historical  part  of  their  religion.  Just  as  Philo  found 
a  deeper  import  shadowed  forth  in  the  Mosaic  record,  and 
idealized  what  he  considered  the  bare  shell  of  the  narrative, 
so  also  did  the  Christians  treat  their  records — partly  with  a 
polemic  view,  but  still  more  largely  from  a  free  and  spontaneous 
interest  in  the  process.  But  the  instrumentality  of  philosophy 
in  introducing  these  dogmas  into  the  Christian  Religion,  is  no 
sufficient  ground  for  asserting  that  they  were  foreign  to  Chris- 
tianity and  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  It  is  a  matter  of  perfect 
indifference  where  a  thing  originated;  the  only  question  is: 
"  Is  it  true  in  and  for  itself  ?  "  Many  think  that  by  pronouncing 
the  doctrine  to  be  Neo-Platonic,  they  have  ipso  facto  banished 
it  from  Christianity.  Whether  a  Christian  doctrine  stands  ex- 
actly thus  or  thus  in  the  Bible — the  point  to  which  the  exegeti- 
cal  scholars  of  modern  times  devote  all  their  attention — is  not 
the  only  question.  The  Letter  kills,  the  Spirit  makes  alive: 
this  they  say  themselves,  yet  pervert  the  sentiment  by  taking 
the  Understanding  for  the  Spirit.  It  was  the  Church  that  rec- 
ognized and  established  the  doctrines  in  question — i.e.  the 
Spirit  of  the  Church ;  and  it  is  itself  an  Article  of  Doctrine : 
"I  believe  in  a  Holy  Church;"*  as  Christ  himself  also  said: 
"  The  Spirit  will  guide  you  into  all  truth."  In  the  Nicene 
Council  (a.d.  325),  was  ultimately  established  a  fixed  confes- 
sion of  faith,  to  which  we  still  adhere :  this  confession  had  not, 
indeed,  a  speculative  form,  but  the  profoundly  speculative  is 
most  intimately  inwoven  with  the  manifestation  of  Christ  him- 
self. Even  in  John  (iv  apxfl  Vv  0  A.6705,  teal  6  \6705  r\v  7rpb<;  rbv 
@ebv,  Kai  @eo?  r\v  6  X0705)  we  see  the  commencement  of  a  pro- 
founder  comprehension.  The  profoundest  thought  is  con- 
nected with  the  personality  of  Christ — with  the  historical  and 
external ;  and  it  is  the  very  grandeur  of  the  Christian  religion 
that,  with  all  this  profundity,  it  is  easy  of  comprehension  by 
our  consciousness  in  its  outward  aspect,  while,  at  the  same  time, 
it  summons  us  to  penetrate  deeper.  It  is  thus  adapted  to  every 
grade  of  culture,  and  yet  satisfies  the  highest  requirements. 

Having  spoken  of  the  relation  of  the  Christian  community 
to  the  Roman  world  on  the  one  side,  and  to  the  truth  contained 
in  its  doctrines  on  the  other  side,  we  come  to  the  third  point — 

*  In  the  Lutheran  ritual.  "  a  holy  "  the  Holy  Catholic  Church,"  in  the  Be- 
Catholic     Church "    is    substituted    for       lief. 


332 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 


in  which  both  doctrine  and  the  external  world  are  concerned — 
the  Church.  The  Christian  community  is  the  Kingdom  of 
Christ — its  influencing  present  Spirit  being  Christ:  for  this 
kingdom  has  an  actual  existence,  not  a  merely  future  one.  This 
spiritual  actuality  has,  therefore,  also  a  phenomenal  existence; 
and  that,  not  only  as  contrasted  with  heathenism,  but  with  sec- 
ular existence  generally.  For  the  Church,  as  presenting  this 
outward  existence,  is  not  merely  a  religion  as  opposed  to  an- 
other religion,  but  is  at  the  same  time  a  particular  form  of 
secular  existence,  occupying  a  place  side  by  side  with  other 
secular  existence.  The  religious  existence  of  the  Church  is 
governed  by  Christ ;  the  secular  side  of  its  government  is  left 
to  the  free  choice  of  the  members  themselves.  Into  this  king- 
dom of  God  an  organization  must  be  introduced.  In  the  first 
instance,  all  the  members  know  themselves  filled  with  the 
Spirit ;  the  whole  community  perceives  the  truth  and  gives  ex- 
pression to  it;  yet,  together  with  this  common  participation 
of  spiritual  influence,  arises  the  necessity  of  a  presidency  of 
guidance  and  teaching — a  body  distinct  from  the  community 
at  large.  Those  are  chosen  as  presidents  who  are  distinguished 
for  talents,  character,  fervor  of  piety,  a  holy  life,  learning,  and 
culture  generally.  The  presidents — those  who  have  a  superior 
acquaintance  with  that  substantial  Life  of  which  all  are  par- 
takers, and  who  are  instructors  in  that  Life — those  who  estab- 
lish what  is  truth,  and  those  who  dispense  its  enjoyment — are 
distinguished  from  the  community  at  large,  as  persons  en- 
dowed with  knowledge  and  governing  power  are  from  the  gov- 
erned. To  the  intelligent  presiding  body,  the  Spirit  comes  in 
a  fully  revealed  and  explicit  form ;  in  the  mass  of  the  commu- 
nity that  Spirit  is  only  implicit.  While,  therefore,  in  the  pre- 
siding body,  the  Spirit  exists  as  self-appreciating  and  self- 
cognizant,  it  becomes  an  authority  in  spiritual  as  well  as  in 
secular  matters — an  authority  for  the  truth  and  for  the  relation 
of  each  individual  to  the  truth,  determining  how  he  should 
conduct  himself  so  as  to  act  in  accordance  with  the  Truth.  This 
distinction  occasions  the  rise  of  an  Ecclesiastical  Kingdom  in 
the  Kingdom  of  God.  Such  a  distinction  is  inevitable  ;  but  the 
existence  of  an  authoritative  government  for  the  Spiritual, 
when  closely  examined,  shows  that  human  subjectivity  in  its 
proper  form  has  not  yet  developed  itself.  In  the  heart,  indeed, 
i  the  evil  will  is  surrendered,  but  the  will,  as  human,  is  not  yet 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 


333 


interpenetrated  by  the  Deity;  the  human  will  is  emancipated 
only  abstractly — not  in  its  concrete  reality — for  the  whole  se- 
quel of  History  is  occupied  with  the  realization  of  this  concrete 
Freedom.  Up  to  this  point,  finite  Freedom  has  been  only  an- 
nulled, to  make  way  for  infinite  Freedom.  The  latter  has  not 
yet  penetrated  secular  existence  with  its  rays.  Subjective 
Freedom  has  not  yet  attained  validity  as  such :  Insight  [specu- 
lative conviction]  does  not  yet  rest  on  a  basis  of  its  own,  but 
is  content  to  inhere  in  the  spirit  of  an  extrinsic  authority.  That 
Spiritual  [geistig]  kingdom  has,  therefore,  assumed  the  shape 
of  an  Ecclesiastical  [geistlich]  one,  as  the  relation  of  the  sub- 
stantial being  and  essence  of  Spirit  to  human  Freedom.  Be- 
sides the  interior  organization  already  mentioned,  we  find  the 
Christian  community  assuming  also  a  definite  external  posi- 
tion, and  becoming  the  possessor  of  property  of  its  own.  As 
property  belonging  to  the  spiritual  world,  it  is  presumed  to 
enjoy  special  protection;  and  the  immediate  inference  from 
this  is,  that  the  Church  has  no  dues  to  pay  to  the  state,  and  that 
ecclesiastical  persons  are  not  amenable  to  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  secular  courts.  This  entails  the  government  by  the  Church 
itself  of  ecclesiastical  property  and  ecclesiastical  persons.  Thus 
there  originates  with  the  Church  the  contrasted  spectacle  of 
a  body  consisting  only  of  private  persons  and  the  power  of  the 
Emperor  on  the  secular  side; — on  the  other  side,  the  perfect 
democracy  of  the  spiritual  community,  choosing  its  own  presi- 
dent. Priestly  consecration,  however,  soon  changes  this  de- 
mocracy into  aristocracy; — though  the  further  development  of 
the  Church  does  not  belong  to  the  period  now  under  considera- 
tion, but  must  be  referred  to  the  world  of  a  later  date. 

It  was  then  through  the  Christian  Religion  that  the  Absolute 
Idea  of  God,  in  its  true  conception,  attained  consciousness. 
Here  Man,  too,  finds  himself  comprehended  in  his  true  nature, 
given  in  the  specific  conception  of  "  the  Son."  Man,  finite 
when  regarded  for  himself,  is  yet  at  the  same  time  the  Image 
of  God  and  a  fountain  of  infinity  in  himself.  He  is  the  object 
of  his  own  existence — has  in  himself  an  infinite  value,  an  eter- 
nal destiny.  Consequently  he  has  his  true  home  in  a  super- 
sensuous  world — an  infinite  subjectivity,  gained  only  by  a  rupt- 
ure with  mere  Natural  existence  and  volition,  and  by  his  labor 
to  break  their  power  within  him.  This  is  religious  self-con- 
sciousness.   But  in  order  to  enter  the  sphere  and  display  the 


334  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

active  vitality  of  that  religious  life,  humanity  must  become 
capable  of  it.  This  capability  is  the  Suva/xis  for  that  ivepyeia. 
What  therefore  remains  to  be  considered  is,  those  conditions 
of  humanity  which  are  the  necessary  corollary  to  the  considera- 
tion that  Man  is  Absolute  Self-consciousness — his  Spiritual 
nature  being  the  starting-point  and  presupposition.  These  con- 
ditions are  themselves  not  yet  of  a  concrete  order,  but  simply 
the  first  abstract  principles,  which  are  won  by  the  instrumen- 
tality of  the  Christian  Religion  for  the  secular  State.  First, 
under  Christianity  Slavery  is  impossible;  for  man  is  man — ■ 
in  the  abstract  essence  of  his  nature — is  contemplated  in  God ; 
each  unit  of  mankind  is  an  object  of  the  grace  of  God  and  of 
the  Divine  purpose :  "  God  will  have  all  men  to  be  saved." 
Utterly  excluding  all  speciality,  therefore,  man,  in  and  for  him- 
self— in  his  simple  quality  of  man — has  infinite  value ;  and  this 
infinite  value  abolishes,  ipso  facto,  all  particularity  attaching  to 
birth  or  country.  The  other,  the  second  principle,  regards  the 
subjectivity  of  man  in  its  bearing  on  the  Fortuitous — on  Chance. 
Humanity  has  this  sphere  of  free  Spirituality  in  and  for  itself, 
and  everything  else  must  proceed  from  it.  The  place  appro- 
priated to  the  abode  and  presence  of  the  Divine  Spirit— the 
sphere  in  question — is  Spiritual  Subjectivity,  and  is  consti- 
tuted the  place  to  which  all  contingency  is  amenable.  It  fol- 
lows thence,  that  what  we  observed  among  the  Greeks  as  a  form 
of  Customary  Morality,  cannot  maintain  its  position  in  the 
Christian  world.  For  that  morality  is  spontaneous  unreflected 
Wont;  while  the  Christian  principle  is  independent  subjectiv- 
ity— the  soil  on  which  grows  the  True.  Now  an  unreflected 
morality  cannot  continue  to  hold  its  ground  against  the  prin- 
ciple of  Subjective  Freedom.  Greek  Freedom  was  that  of 
Hap  and  "  Genius  " ;  it  was  still  conditioned  by  Slaves  and 
Oracles ;  but  now  the  principle  of  absolute  Freedom  in  God 
makes  its  appearance.  Man  now  no  longer  sustains  the  rela- 
tion of  Dependence,  but  of  Love — in  the  consciousness  that  he 
is  a  partaker  in  the  Divine  existence.  In  regard  to  particular 
aims  [such  as  the  Greeks  referred  to  oracular  decision],  man 
now  forms  his  own  determinations  and  recognizes  himself  as 
plenipotentiary  in  regard  to  all  finite  existence.  All  that  is  spe- 
cial retreats  into  the  background  before  that  Spiritual  sphere 
of  subjectivity,  which  takes  a  secondary  position  only  in  pres- 
ence of  the  Divine  Spirit.     The  superstition  of  oracles  and 


THE    ROMAN    WORLD  335 

auspices  is  thereby  entirely  abrogated:    Man  is  recognized  as 
the  absolute  authority  in  crises  of  decision. 

It  is  the  two  principles  just  treated  of,  that  now  attach  to 
Spirit  in  this  its  self-contained  phase.  The  inner  shrine  of 
man  is  designed,  on  the  one  hand,  to  train  the  citizen  of  the 
religious  life  to  bring  himself  into  harmony  with  the  Spirit  of 
God ;  on  the  other  hand,  this  is  the  point  du  depart  for  deter- 
mining secular  relations,  and  its  condition  is  the  theme  of  Chris- 
tian History.  The  change  which  piety  effects  must  not  remain 
concealed  in  the  recesses  of  the  heart,  but  must  become  an 
actual,  present  world,  complying  with  the  conditions  pre- 
scribed by  that  Absolute  Spirit.  Piety  of  heart  does  not,  per  se, 
involve  the  submission  of  the  subjective  will,  in  its  external 
relations,  to  that  piety.  On  the  contrary  we  see  all  passions  in- 
creasingly rampant  in  the  sphere  of  reality,  because  that  sphere 
is  looked  down  upon  with  contempt,  from  the  lofty  position 
attained  by  the  world  of  mind,  as  one  destitute  of  all  claim  arid 
value.  The  problem  to  be  solved  is  therefore  the  imbuing  of  the 
sphere  of  [ordinary]  unreflected  Spiritual  existence,  with  the 
Idea  of  Spirit.  A  general  observation  here  suggests  itself.  From 
time  immemorial  it  has  been  customary  to  assume  an  opposition 
between  Reason  and  Religion,  as  also  between  Religion  and  the 
World;  but  on  investigation  this  turns  out  to  be  only  a  dis- 
tinction. Reason  in  general  is  the  Positive  Existence  [Wesen] 
of  Spirit,  divine  as  well  as  human.  The  distinction  between 
Religion  and  the  World  is  only  this — that  Religion  as  such,  is 
Reason  in  the  soul  and  heart — that  it  is  a  temple  in  which  Truth 
and  Freedom  in  God  are  presented  to  the  conceptive  faculty: 
the  State,  on  the  other  hand,  regulated  by  the  selfsame  Reason, 
is  a  temple  of  Human  Freedom  concerned  with  the  perception 
and  volition  of  a  reality,  whose  purport  may  itself  be  called 
divine.  Thus  Freedom  in  the  State  is  preserved  and  estab- 
lished by  Religion,  since  moral  rectitude  in  the  State  is  only 
the  carrying  out  of  that  which  constitutes  the  fundamental 
principle  of  Religion.  The  process  displayed  in  History  is  only 
the  manifestation  of  Religion  as  Human  Reason — the  produc- 
tion of  the  religious  principle  which  dwells  in  the  heart  of  man, 
under  the  form  of  Secular  Freedom.  Thus  the  discord  between 
the  inner  life  of  the  heart  and  the  actual  world  is  removed.  To 
realize  this  is,  however,  the  vocation  of  another  people — or 
other  peoples — viz.,  the  German.    In  ancient  Rome  itself,  Chris- 


336  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

tianity  cannot  find  a  ground  on  which  it  may  become  actual, 
and  develop  an  empire. 


Chapter  III. — The  Byzantine  Empire 

With  Constantine  the  Great  the  Christian  religion  ascended 
the  throne  of  the  empire.  He  was  followed  by  a  succession  of 
Christian  Emperors,  interrupted  only  by  Julian — who  however, 
could  do  but  little  for  the  prostrate  ancient  faith.  The  Roman 
Empire  embraced  the  whole  civilized  earth,  from  the  Western 
Ocean  to  the  Tigris — from  the  interior  of  Africa,  to  the  Danube 
(Pannonia,  Dacia).  Christianity  soon  spread  through  the 
length  and  breadth  of  this  enormous  realm.  Rome  had  long 
ceased  to  be  the  exclusive  residence  of  the  Emperors.  Many 
of  Constantine's  predecessors  had  resided  in  Milan  or  other 
places ;  and  he  himself  established  a  second  court  in  the  ancient 
Byzantium,  which  received  the  name  of  Constantinople.  From 
the  first  its  population  consisted  chiefly  of  Christians,  and  Con- 
stantine lavished  every  appliance  to  render  this  new  abode  equal 
in  splendor  to  the  old.  The  empire  still  remained  in  its  integrity 
till  Theodosius  the  Great  made  permanent  a  separation  that 
had  been  only  occasional,  and  divided  it  between  his  two  sons. 
The  reign  of  Theodosius  displayed  the  last  faint  glimmer  of 
that  splendor  which  had  glorified  the  Roman  world.  Under 
him  the  pagan  temples  were  shut,  the  sacrifices  and  ceremonies 
abolished,  and  paganism  itself  forbidden:  gradually  however 
it  entirely  vanished  of  itself.  The  heathen  orators  of  the  time 
cannot  sufficiently  express  their  wonder  and  astonishment  at 
the  monstrous  contrast  between  the  days  of  their  forefathers 
and  their  own.  "  Our  Temples  have  become  Tombs.  The 
places  which  were  formerly  adorned  with  the  holy  statues  of 
the  Gods  are  now  covered  with  sacred  bones  (relics  of  the 
Martyrs)  ;  men  who  have  suffered  a  shameful  death  for  their 
crimes,  whose  bodies  are  covered  with  stripes,  and  whose  heads 
have  been  embalmed,' are  the  object  of  veneration."  All  that 
was  contemned  is  exalted ;  all  that  was  formerly  revered,  is 
trodden  in  the  dust.  The  last  of  the  pagans  express  this  enor- 
mous contrast  with  profound  lamentation. 

The  Roman  Empire  was  divided  between  the  two  sons  of 
Theodosius.  The  elder,  Arcadius,  received  the  Eastern  Em- 
pire : — Ancient  Greece,  with  Thrace,  Asia  Minor,  Syria,  Egypt ; 


THE   ROMAN    WORLD  337 

the  younger,  Honorius,  the  Western : — Italy,  Africa,  Spain, 
Gaul,  Britain.  Immediately  after  the  death  of  Theodosius, 
confusion  entered,  and  the  Roman  provinces  were  overwhelmed 
by  alien  peoples.  Already,  under  the  Emperor  Valens,  the  Visi- 
goths, pressed  by  the  Huns,  had  solicited  a  domicile  on  the 
hither  side  of  the  Danube.  This  was  granted  them,  on  the  con- 
dition that  they  should  defend  the  border  provinces  of  the  em- 
pire. But  maltreatment  roused  them  to  revolt.  Valens  was 
beaten  and  fell  on  the  field.  The  later  emperors  paid  court  to 
the  leader  of  these  Goths.  Alaric,  the  bold  Gothic  Chief,  turned 
his  arms  against  Italy.  Stilicho,  the  general  and  minister  of 
Honorius,  stayed  his  course,  a.d.  403,  by  the  battle  of  Pollentia, 
as  at  a  later  date  he  also  routed  Radagaisus,  leader  of  the 
Alans,  Suevi,  and  others.  Alaric  now  attacked  Gaul  and  Spain, 
and  on  the  fall  of  Stilicho  returned  to  Italy.  Rome  was  stormed 
and  plundered  by  him  a.d.  410.  Afterwards  Attila  advanced 
on  it  with  the  terrible  might  of  the  Huns — one  of  those  purely 
Oriental  phenomena,  which,  like  a  mere  storm-torrent,  rise  to 
a  furious  height  and  bear  down  everything  in  their  course,  but 
in  a  brief  space  are  so  completely  spent,  that  nothing  is  seen  of 
them  but  the  traces  they  have  left  in  the  ruins  which  they  have 
occasioned.  Attila  pressed  into  Gaul,  where,  a.d.  451,  a  vig- 
orous resistance  was  offered  him  by  ^Etius,  near  Chalons  on 
the  Marne.  Victory  remained  doubtful.  Attila  subsequently 
marched  upon  Italy  and  died  in  the  year  453.  Soon  afterwards 
however  Rome  was  taken  and  plundered  by  the  Vandals  under 
Genseric.  Finally,  the  dignity  of  the  Western  Emperors  be- 
came a  farce,  and  their  empty  title  was  abolished  by  Odoacer, 
King  of  the  Heruli. 

The  Eastern  Empire  long  survived,  and  in  the  West  a  new 
Christian  population  was  formed  from  the  invading  barbarian 
hordes.  Christianity  had  at  first  kept  aloof  from  the  state,  and 
the  development  which  it  experienced  related  to  doctrine,  in- 
ternal organization,  discipline,  etc.  But  now  it  had  become 
dominant:  it  was  now  a  political  power,  a  political  motive. 
We  now  see  Christianity  under  two  forms:  on  the  one  side 
barbarian  nations  whose  culture  was  yet  to  begin,  who  have 
to  acquire  the  very  rudiments  of  science,  law,  and  polity;  on 
other  side  civilized  peoples  in  possession  of  Greek  science  and 
a  highly  refined  Oriental  culture.  Municipal  legislation  among 
them  was   complete — having   reached   the  highest  perfection 


338  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

through  the  labors  of  the  great  Roman  jurisconsults ;  so  that 
the  corpus  juris  compiled  at  the  instance  of  the  Emperor  Jus- 
tinian, still  excites  the  admiration  of  the  world.  Here  the 
Christian  religion  is  placed  in  the  midst  of  a  developed  civiliza- 
tion, which  did  not  proceed  from  it.  There,  on  the  contrary, 
the  process  of  culture  has  its  very  first  step  still  to  take,  and 
that  within  the  sphere  of  Christianity. 

These  two  empires,  therefore,  present  a  most  remarkable 
contrast,  in  which  we  have  before  our  eyes  a  grand  example 
of  the  necessity  of  a  people's  having  its  culture  developed  in  the 
spirit  of  the  Christian  religion.  The  history  of  the  highly 
civilized  Eastern  Empire — where  as  we  might  suppose,  the 
Spirit  of  Christianity  could  be  taken  up  in  its  truth  and  purity 
— exhibits  to  us  a  millennial  series  of  uninterrupted  crimes, 
weaknesses,  basenesses  and  want  of  principle ;  a  most  repulsive 
and  consequently  a  most  uninteresting  picture.  It  is  evident 
here,  how  Christianity  may  be  abstract,  and  how  as  such  it  is 
powerless,  on  account  of  its  very  purity  and  intrinsic  spiritual- 
ity. It  may  even  be  entirely  separated  from  the  World,  as  e.g. 
in  Monasticism — which  originated  in  Egypt.  It  is  a  common 
notion  and  saying,  in  reference  to  the  power  of  Religion,  ab- 
stractly considered,  over  the  hearts  of  men,  that  if  Christian 
love  were  universal,  private  and  political  life  would  both  be 
perfect,  and  the  state  of  mankind  would  be  thoroughly  right- 
eous and  moral.  Such  representations  may  be  a  pious  wish, 
but  do  not  possess  truth;  for  religion  is  something  internal, 
having  to  do  with  conscience  alone.  To  it  all  the  passions  and 
desires  are  opposed,  and  in  order  that  heart,  will,  intelligence 
may  become  true,  they  must  be  thoroughly  educated;  Right 
must  become  Custom — Habit ;  practical  activity  must  be  ele- 
vated to  rational  action ;  the  State  must  have  a  rational  organ- 
ization, and  then  at  length  does  the  will  of  individuals  become 
a  truly  righteous  one.  Light  shining  in  darkness  may  perhaps 
give  color,  but  not  a  picture  animated  by  Spirit.  The  Byzantine 
Empire  is  a  grand  example  of  how  the  Christian  religion  may 
maintain  an  abstract  character  among  a  cultivated  people,  if 
the  whole  organization  of  the  State  and  of  the  Laws  is  not 
reconstructed  in  harmony  with  its  principle.  At  Byzantium 
Christianity  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  dregs  of  the  popu- 
lation— the  lawless  mob.  Popular  license  on  the  one  side  and 
courtly  baseness  on  the  other  side,  take  refuge  under  the  sane- 


THE    ROMAN    WORLD 


339 


tion  of  religion,  and  degrade  the  latter  to  a  disgusting  object. 
In  regard  to  religion,  two  interests  obtained  prominence :  first, 
the  settlement  of  doctrine;   and  secondly,  the  appointment  to 
ecclesiastical  offices.     The  settlement  of  doctrine  pertained  to 
the  Councils  and   Church   authorities;    but  the  principle  of 
Christianity  is  Freedom — subjective  insight.     These  matters 
therefore,  were  special  subjects  of  contention  for  the  populace; 
violent  civil  wars  arose,  and  everywhere  might  be  witnessed 
scenes  of  murder,  conflagration  and  pillage,  perpetrated  in  the 
cause  of  Christian  dogmas.     A  famous  schism  e.g.  occurred 
in  reference  to  the  dogma  of  the  Tpiardyiov.    The  words  read: 
"  Holy,  Holy,  Holy,  is  the  Lord  God  of  Zebaoth."    To  this,  one 
party,  in  honor  of  Christ,  added — "  who  was  crucified  for  us." 
Another  party  rejected  the  addition,  and  sanguinary  struggles 
ensued.     In  the  contest  on  the  question  whether  Christ  were 
o/xoovcrios  or    ofMoioixno^ — that  is  of  the  same  or  of  similar  nat- 
ure with  God — the  one  letter  i  cost  many  thousands  their  lives. 
Especially  notorious  are  the  contentions  about  Images,  in  which 
it  often  happened,  that  the  Emperor  declared  for  the  images 
and  the  Patriarch  against,  or  conversely.     Streams  of  blood 
flowed  as  the  result.     Gregory  Nazianzen  says  somewhere: 
"This  city    (Constantinople)   is  full  of  handicraftsmen  and 
slaves,  who  are  all  profound  theologians,  and  preach  in  their 
workshops  and  in  the  streets.     If  you  want  a  man  to  change 
a  piece  of  silver,  he  instructs  you  in  what  consists  the  distinc- 
tion between  the  Father  and  the  Son:  if  you  ask  the  price  of  a 
loaf  of  bread,  you  receive  for  answer — that  the  Son  is  inferior 
to  the  Father ;  and  if  you  ask,  whether  the  bread  is  ready,  the 
rejoinder  is  that  the  genesis  of  the  Son  was  from  Nothing." 
The  Idea  of  Spirit  contained  in  this  doctrine  was  thus  treated 
in  an  utterly  unspiritual  manner.     The  appointment  to  the 
Patriarchate  at  Constantinople,  Antioch  and  Alexandria,  and 
the  jealousy  and  ambition  of  the  Patriarchs  likewise  occasioned 
many  intestine  struggles.     To  all  these  religious  contentions 
was  added  the  interest  in  the  gladiators  and  their  combats,  and 
in  the  parties  of  the  blue  and  green  color,  which  likewise  occa- 
sioned the  bloodiest  encounters ;    a  sign  of  the  most  fearful 
degradation,  as  proving  that  all  feeling  for  what  is  serious  and 
elevated  is  lost,  and  that  the  delirium  of  religious  passion  is 
quite  consistent  with  an  appetite  for  gross  and  barbarous  spec- 
tacles. 


340  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

The  chief  points  in  the  Christian  religion  were  at  last,  by  de- 
grees, established  by  the  Councils.  The  Christians  of  the  By- 
zantine Empire  remained  sunk  in  the  dream  of  superstition — 
persisting  in  blind  obedience  to  the  Patriarchs  and  the  priest- 
hood. Image- Worship,  to  which  we  alluded  above,  occasioned 
the  most  violent  struggles  and  storms.  The  brave  Emperor 
Leo  the  Isaurian  in  particular,  persecuted  images  with  the 
greatest  obstinacy,  and  in  the  year  754,  Image- Worship  was 
declared  by  a  Council  to  be  an  invention  of  the  devil.  Never- 
theless, in  the  year  787  the  Empress  Irene  had  it  restored  under 
the  authority  of  a  Nicene  Council,  and  the  Empress  Theodora 
definitively  established  it — proceeding  against  its  enemies  with 
energetic  rigor.  The  iconoclastic  Patriarch  received  two  hun- 
dred blows,  the  bishops  trembled,  the  monks  exulted,  and  the 
memory  of  this  orthodox  proceeding  was  celebrated  by  an  an- 
nual ecclesiastical  festival.  The  West,  on  the  contrary,  repu- 
diated Image- Worship  as  late  as  the  year  794,  in  the  Council 
held  at  Frankfort ;  and,  though  retaining  the  images,  blamed 
most  severely  the  superstition  of  the  Greeks.  Not  till  the  later 
Middle  Ages  did  Image- Worship  meet  with  universal  adoption 
as  the  result  of  quiet  and  slow  advances. 

The  Byzantine  Empiie  was  thus  distracted  by  passions  of  all 
kinds  within,  and  pressed  by  the  barbarians — to  whom  the  Em- 
perors could  offer  but  feeble  resistance — without.  The  realm 
was  in  a  condition  of  perpetual  insecurity.  Its  general  aspect 
presents  a  disgusting  picture  of  imbecility ;  wretched,  nay,  in- 
sane passions,  stifle  the  growth  of  all  that  is  noble  in  thoughts, 
deeds,  and  persons.  Rebellion  on  the  part  of  generals,  deposi- 
tions of  the  Emperors  by  their  means  or  through  the  intrigues 
of  the  courtiers,  assassination  or  poisoning  of  the  Emperors 
by  their  own  wives  and  sons,  women  surrendering  themselves 
to  lusts  and  abominations  of  all  kinds — such  are  the  scenes 
which  History  here  brings  before  us;  till  at  last — about  the 
middle  of  the  fifteenth  century  (a.d.  1453) — trie  rotten  edifice 
of  the  Eastern  Empire  crumbled  in  pieces  before  the  might  of 
the  vigorous  Turks. 


PART  IV 


THE  GERMAN  WORLD 

THE  German  Spirit  is  the  Spirit  of  the  new  World.  Its 
aim  is  the  realization  of  absolute  Truth  as  the  unilimited 
self-determination  of  Freedom — that  Freedom  which 
has  its  own  absolute  form  itself  as  its  purport.*  The  destiny 
of  the  German  peoples  is,  to  be  the  bearers  of  the  Christian 
principle.  The  principle  of  Spiritual  Freedom — of  Reconcilia- 
tion [of  the  Objective  and  Subjective],  was  introduced  into- the 
still  simple,  unformed  minds  of  those  peoples ;  and  the  part  as- 
signed them  in  the  service  of  the  World- Spirit  was  that  of  not 
merely  possessing  the  Idea  of  Freedom  as  the  substratum  of 
their  religious  conceptions,  but  of  producing  it  in  free  and 
spontaneous  developments  from  their  subjective  self-conscious- 
ness. 

In  entering  on  the  task  of  dividing  the  German  World  into 
its  natural  periods,  we  must  remark  that  we  have  not,  as  was 
the  case  in  treating  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  a  double  exter- 
nal relation — backwards  to  an  earlier  World-Historical  people, 
and  forwards  to  a  later  one — to  guide  us.  History  shows  that 
the  process  of  development  among  the  peoples  now  under  con- 
sideration, was  an  altogether  different  one.  The  Greeks  and 
Romans  had  reached  maturity  within,  ere  they  directed  their 
energies  outwards.  The  Germans,  on  the  contrary,  began  with 
self-diffusion — deluging  the  world,  and  overpowering  in  their 
course  the  inwardly  rotten,  hollow  political  fabrics  of  the  civil- 
ized nations.  Only  then  did  their  development  begin,  kindled 
by  a  foreign  culture,  a  foreign  religion,  polity  and  legislation. 
The  process  of  culture  they  underwent  consisted  in  taking  up 

*  That  is:    The  Supreme  Law  of  the  fore  is  the  only  absolutely  free  and  un- 

Universe  is  recognized  as  identical  with  limited  power — is  no  longer  a  compul- 

the   dictates   of   Conscience — becomes   a  sory  enactment,  but  the  free  choice  of 

"  law  of  liberty."    Morality— that  author-  human    beings.    The   good    man   would 

ity  which  has  the  incontestable  right  to  make  Law  for  himself  if  he  found  none 

determine   men's   actions,   which   there-  made  for  him. 

341 


342  PHILOSOPHY    OP   HISTOP.Y 

foreign  elements  and  reductively  amalgamating  them  with  their 
own  national  life.  Thus  their  history  presents  an  introver- 
sion— the  attraction  of  alien  forms  of  life  and  the  bringing 
these  to  bear  upon  their  own.  In  the  Crusades,  indeed,  and 
in  the  discovery  of  America,  the  Western  World  directed  its 
energies  outwards.  But  it  was  not  thus  brought  in  contact 
with  a  World-Historical  people  that  had  preceded  it ;  it  did  not 
dispossess  a  principle  that  had  previously  governed  the  world. 
The  relation  to  an  extraneous  principle  here  only  accompanies 
[does  not  constitute]  the  history — does  not  bring  with  it  essen- 
tial changes  in  the  nature  of  those  conditions  which  character- 
ize the  peoples  in  question,  but  rather  wears  the  aspect  of  in- 
ternal evolution.* — The  relation  to  ofher  countries  and  periods 
is  thus  entirely  different  from  that  sustained  by  the  Greeks  and 
Romans.  For  the  Christian  world  is  the  world  of  completion ; 
the  grand  principle  of  being  is  realized,  consequently  the  end 
of  days  is  fully  come.  The  Idea  can  discover  in  Christianity 
no  point  in  the  aspirations  of  Spirit  that  is  not  satisfied.  For 
its  individual  members,  the  Church  is,  it  is  true,  a  preparation 
for  an  eternal  state  as  something  future;  since  the  units  who 
compose  it,  in  their  isolated  and  several  capacity,  occupy  a  posi- 
tion of  particularity :  but  the  Church  has  also  the  Spirit  of 
God  actually  present  in  it,  it  forgives  the  sinner  and  is  a  present 
kingdom  of  heaven.  Thus  the  Christian  World  has  no  absolute 
existence  outside  its  sphere,  but  only  a  relative  one  which  is 
already  implicitly  vanquished,  and  in  respect  to  which  its  only 
concern  is  to  make  it  apparent  that  this  conquest  has  taken 
place.  Hence  it  follows  that  an  external  reference  ceases  to 
be  the  characteristic  element  determining  the  epochs  of  the  mod- 
ern world.  We  have  therefore  to  look  for  another  principle  of 
division. 

The  German  World  took  up  the  Roman  culture  and  religion 
in  their  completed  form.  There  was  indeed  a  German  and 
Northern  religion,  but  it  had  by  no  means  taken  deep  root  in 
the  soul ;  Tacitus  therefore  calls  the  Germans :  "  Securi  ad- 
versus  Deos."  The  Christian  Religion  which  they  adopted,  had 
received  from  Councils  and  Fathers  of  the  Church,  who  pos- 
sessed the  whole  culture,  and  in  particular,  the  philosophy  of 
the  Greek  and  Roman  World,  a  perfected  dogmatic  system; 

*  The  influence  of  the  Crusades  and  of        reflex.    No  other  phase  of  humanity  was 
the   discovery  of  America    was    simply       thereby  merged  in  Christendom. 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD. 


343 


the  Church,  too,  had  a  completely  developed  hierarchy.  To 
the  native  tongue  of  the  Germans,  the  Church  likewise  opposed 
one  perfectly  developed — the  Latin.  In  art  and  philosophy  a 
similar  alien  influence  predominated.  What  of  Alexandrian 
and  of  formal  Aristotelian  philosophy  was  still  preserved  in  the 
writings  of  Boethius  and  elsewhere,  became  the  fixed  basis  of 
speculative  thought  in  the  West  for  many  centuries.  The  same 
principle  holds  in  regard  to  the  form  of  the  secular  sovereignty. 
Gothic  and  other  chiefs  gave  themselves  the  name  of  Roman 
Patricians,  and  at  a  later  date  the  Roman  Empire  was  restored. 
Thus  the  German  world  appears,  superficially,  to  be  only  a 
continuation  of  the  Roman.  But  there  lived  in  it  an  entirely 
new  Spirit,  through  which  the  World  was  to  be  regenerated — 
the  free  Spirit,  viz.  which  reposes  on  itself — the  absolutely  self- 
determination  [Eigensinn]  of  subjectivity.  To  this  self-in- 
volved subjectivity,  the  corresponding  objectivity  [Inhalt] 
stands  opposed  as  absolutely  alien.  The  distinction  and  antith- 
esis which  is  evolved  from  these  principles,  is  that  of  Church 
and  State.  On  the  one  side,  the  Church  develops  itself,  as  the 
embodiment  of  absolute  Truth;  for  it  is  the  consciousness  of 
this  truth,  and  at  the  same  time  the  agency  for  rendering  the 
Individual  harmonious  with  it.  On  the  other  side  stands  sec- 
ular consciousness,  which,  with  its  aims,  occupies  the  world 
of  Limitation — the  State,  based  on  Heart  [emotional  and  thence 
social  affections]  or  mutual  confidence  and  subjectivity  gener- 
ally. European  history  is  the  exhibition  of  the  growth  of  each 
of  these  principles  severally,  in  Church  and  State ;  then  of  an 
antithesis  on  the  part  of  both — not  only  of  the  one  to  the  other, 
but  appearing  within  the  sphere  of  each  of  these  bodies  them- 
selves (since  each  of  them  is  itself  a  totality)  ;  lastly,  of  the 
harmonizing  of  the  antithesis. 

The  three  periods  of  this  world  will  have  to  be  treated  ac- 
cordingly. 

The  first  begins  with  the  appearance  of  the  German  Nations 
in  the  Roman  Empire — the  incipient  development  of  these  peo- 
ples, converts  to  Christianity,  and  now  established  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  West.  Their  barbarous  and  simple  character 
prevents  this  initial  period  from  possessing  any  great  interest. 
The  Christian  world  then  presents  itself  as  "  Christendom  " — 
one  mass,  in  which  the  Spiritual  and  the  Secular  form  only  dif- 
ferent aspects.    This  epoch  extends  to  Charlemagne. 


344 


PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 


The  second  period  develops  the  two  sides  of  the  antithesis  to 
a  logically  consequential  independence  and  opposition — the 
Church  for  itself  as  a  Theocracy,  and  the  State  for  itself  as  a 
Feudal  Monarchy.  Charlemagne  had  formed  an  alliance  with 
the  Holy  See  against  the  Lombards  and  the  factions  of  the 
nobles  in  Rome.  A  union  thus  arose  between  the  spiritual  and 
the  secular  power,  and  a  kingdom  of  heaven  on  earth  promised 
to  follow  in  the  wake  of  this  conciliation.  But  just  at  this  time, 
instead  of  a  spiritual  kingdom  of  heaven,  the  inwardness  of  the 
Christian  principle  wears  the  appearance  of  being  altogether 
directed  outwards  and  leaving  its  proper  sphere.  Christian 
Freedom  is  perverted  to  its  very  opposite,  both  in  a  religious 
and  secular  respect ;  on  the  one  hand  to  the  severest  bondage, 
on  the  other  hand  to  the  most  immoral  excess — a  barbarous 
intensity  of  every  passion.  In  this  period  two  aspects  of  society 
are  to  be  especially  noticed :  the  first  is  the  formation  of  states 
— superior  and  inferior  suzerainties  exhibiting  a  regulated  sub- 
ordination, so  that  every  relation  becomes  a  firmly-fixed  private 
right,  excluding  a  sense  of  universality.  This  regulated  sub- 
ordination appears  in  the  Feudal  System.  The  second  aspect 
presents  the  antithesis  of  Church  and  State.  This  antithesis 
exists  solely  because  the  Church,  to  whose  management  the 
Spiritual  was  committed,  itself  sinks  down  into  every  kind  of 
worldliness — a  worldliness  which  appears  only  the  more  de- 
testable, because  all  passions  assume  the  sanction  of  religion. 

The  time  of  Charles  V's  reign — i.e.,  the  first  half  of  the 
sixteenth  century — forms  the  end  of  the  second,  and  likewise 
the  beginning  of  the  third  period.  Secularity  appears  now  as 
gaining  a  consciousness  of  its  intrinsic  worth — becomes  aware 
of  its  having  a  value  of  its  own  in  the  morality,  rectitude,  prob- 
ity and  activity  of  man.  The  consciousness  of  independent 
validity  is  aroused  through  the  restoration  of  Christian  free- 
dom. The  Christian  principle  has  now  passed  through  the 
terrible  discipline  of  culture,  and  it  first  attains  truth  and  reality 
through  the  Reformation.  This  third  period  of  the  German 
World  extends  from  the  Reformation  to  our  own  times.  The 
principle  of  Free  Spirit  is  here  made  the  banner  of  the  World, 
and  from  this  principle  are  evolved  the  universal  axioms  of 
Reason.  Formal  Thought — the  Understanding — had  been  al- 
ready developed;  but  Thought  received  its  true  material  first 
with  the  Reformation,  through  the  reviviscent  concrete  con- 


THE  GERMAN   WORLD. 


345 


sciousness  of  Free  Spirit.  From  that  epoch  Thought  began 
to  gain  a  culture  properly  its  own:  principles  were  derived 
from  it  which  were  to  be  the  norm  for  the  constitution  of  the 
State.  Political  life  was  now  to  be  consciously  regulated  by 
Reason.  Customary  morality,  traditional  usage  lost  its  valid- 
ity; the  various  claims  insisted  upon,  must  prove  their  legit- 
imacy as  based  on  rational  principles.  Not  till  this  era  is  the 
Freedom  of  Spirit  realized. 

We  may  distinguish  these  periods  as  Kingdoms  of  the  Father, 
i  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit.*  The  Kingdom  of  the  Father  is  the 
consolidated,  undistinguished  mass,  presenting  a  self-repeating 
cycle,  mere  change — like  that  sovereignty  of  Chronos  engulfing 
his  offspring.  The  Kingdom  of  the  Son  is  the  manifestation 
of  God  merely  in  a  relation  to  secular  existence — shining  upon 
it  as  upon  an  alien  object.  The  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit  is  the 
harmonizing  of  the  antithesis. 

These  epochs  may  be  also  compared  with  the  earlier  em- 
pires. In  the  German  aeon,  as  the  realm  of  Totality,  we  see  the 
distinct  repetition  of  the  earlier  epochs.  Charlemagne's  time 
may  be  compared  with  the  Persian  Empire ;  it  is  the  period  of 
substantial  unity — this  unity  having  its  foundation  in  the  inner 
man,  the  Heart,  and  both  in  the  Spiritual  and  the  Secular  still 
abiding  in  its  simplicity.        y 

To  the  Greek  world  and  its  merely  ideal  unity,  the  time  pre- 
ceding Charles  V  answers ;  where  real  unity  no  longer  exists, 
because  all  phases  of  particularity  have  become  fixed  in  privi- 
leges and  peculiar  rights.  As  in  the  interior  of  the  realms  them- 
selves, the  different  estates  of  the  realm,  with  their  several 
claims,  are  isolated,  so  do  the  various  states  in  their  foreign 
aspects  occupy  a  merely  external  relation  to  each  other.  A 
diplomatic  policy  arises,  which  in  the  interest  of  a  European 
balance  of  power,  unites  them  with  and  against  each  other. 
It  is  the  time  in  which  the  world  becomes  clear  and  manifest 
to  itself  (Discovery  of  America).    So  too  does  consciousness 

*The  conception  of  a  mystical  regnum  munion  ensues  between  God  in  Christ 

Patris}  regnum  Filii  and  regnum  Spiritus  and  the  Regenerated,  when  God  is  "  all 

Sancti  is  perfectly  familiar  to  metaphysi-  in  all."    This  remark  may  serve  to  pre- 

cal  theologians.    The  first  represents  the  vent  misconception  as  to  the  tone  of  the 

period  in  which  Deity  is  not  yet  mani-  remainder  of  the  paragraph.    The  men- 

fested— remains  self-involved.     The  sec-  tion  of  the  Greek  myth  will  appear  perti- 

ond  is  that  of  manifestation  in  an  indi-  nent  in  the  view  of  those  who   admit 

vidual  being,  standing  apart  from  man-  what  seems  a  very  reasonable  explana- 

kind  generally—"  the  Son."    The  third  tion  of  it— viz.,  as  an  adumbration  of  the 

is  that  in  which  this  barrier  is  broken  self-involved  character  of  the  prehistori- 

down,  and  as  intimate  mystical  com-  cal  period. 


346  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

gain  clearness  in  the  supersensuous  world  and  respecting  it. 
Substantial  objective  religion  brings  itself  to  sensuous  clearness 
in  the  sensuous  element  (Christian  Art  in  the  age  of  Pope  Leo), 
and  also  becomes  clear  to  itself  in  the  element  of  inmost  truth. 
We  may  compare  this  time  with  that  of  Pericles.  The  intro- 
version of  Spirit  begins  (Socrates — Luther),  though  Pericles 
is  wanting  in  this  epoch.  Charles  V  possesses  enormous  pos- 
sibilities in  point  of  outward  appliances,  and  appears  absolute 
in  his  power ;  but  the  inner  spirit  of  Pericles,  and  therefore  the 
absolute  means  of  establishing  a  free  sovereignty,  are  not  in  him. 
This  is  the  epoch  when  Spirit  becomes  clear  to  itself  in  separa- 
tions occurring  in  the  realm  of  reality;  now  the  distinct  ele- 
ments of  the  German  world  manifest  their  essential  nature. 

The  third  epoch  may  be  compared  with  the  Roman  World. 
The  unity  of  a  universal  principle  is  here  quite  as  decidedly 
present,  yet  not  as  the  unity  of  abstract  universal  sovereignty, 
but  as  the  Hegemony  of  self-cognizant  Thought.  The  au- 
thority of  Rational  Aim  is  acknowledged,  and  privileges  and 
particularities  melt  away  before  the  common  object  of  the 
State.  Peoples  will  the  Right  in  and  for  itself;  regard  is  not 
had  exclusively  to  particular  conventions  between  nations,  but 
principles  enter  into  the  considerations  with  which  diplomacy 
is  occupied.  As  little  can  Religion  maintain  itself  apart  from 
Thought,  but  either  advances  to  the  comprehension  of  the  Idea, 
or,  compelled  by  thought  itself,  becomes  intensive  belief — or 
lastly,  from  despair  of  finding  itself  at  home  in  thought,  flees 
back  from  it  in  pious  horror,  and  becomes  Superstition. 


SECTION  I 

THE    ELEMENTS    OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    GERMAN 

WORLD 

Chapter  I. — The  Barbarian  Migrations. 

RESPECTING  this  first  period,  we  have  on  the  whole 
little  to  say,  for  it  affords  us  comparatively  slight  mate- 
rials for  reflection.  We  will  not  follow  the  Germans 
back  into  their  forests,  nor  investigate  the  origin  of  their  migra- 
tions. Those  forests  of  theirs  have  always  passed  for  the  abodes 
of  free  peoples,  and  Tacitus  sketched  his  celebrated  picture  of 
Germany  with  a  certain  love  and  longing — contrasting  it  with 
the  corruption  and  artificiality  of  that  world  to  which  he  himself 
belonged.  But  we  must  not  on  this  account  regard  such  a  state 
of  barbarism  as  an  exalted  one,  or  fall  into  some  such  error 
as  Rousseau's,  who  represents  the  condition  of  the  American 
savages  as  one  in  which  man  is  in  possession  of  true  freedom. 
Certainly  there  is  an  immense  amount  of  misfortune  and  sor- 
row of  which  the  savage  knows  nothing;  but  this  is  a  merely 
negative  advantage,  while  freedom  is  essential  positive.  It  is 
only  the  blessings  conferred  by  affirmative  freedom  that  are 
regarded  as  such  in  the  highest  grade  of  consciousness. 

Our  first  acquaintance  with  the  Germans  finds  each  individual 
enjoying  an  independent  freedom ;  and  yet  there  is  a  certain 
community  of  feeling  and  interest,  though  not  yet  matured  to 
a  political  condition.  Next  we  see  them  inundating  the  Roman 
empire.  It  was  partly  the  fertility  of  its  domains,  partly  the 
necessity  of  seeking  other  habitations,  that  furnished  the  in- 
citing cause.  In  spite  of  the  wars  in  which  they  engage  with 
the  Romans,  individuals,  and  even  entire  clans,  enter  their 
service  as  soldiers.  Even  so  early  as  the  battle  of  Pharsalia  we 
find  German  cavalry  united  with  the  Roman  forces  of  Caesar. 
In  military  service  and  intercourse  with  civilized  peoples,  they 
became  acquainted  with  their  advantages — advantages  tending 

Vol.  23  P-ClSsica 


348  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

to  the  enjoyment  and  convenience  of  life,  but  also,  and  princi- 
pally, those  of  mental  cultivation.  In  the  later  emigrations, 
many  nations — some  entirely,  others  partially — remained  be- 
hind in  their  original  abodes. 

Accordingly,  a  distinction  must  be  made  between  the  German 
nations  who  remained  in  their  ancient  habitations  and  those 
who  spread  themselves  over  the  Roman  empire,  and  mingled 
with  the  conquered  peoples.  Since  in  their  migratory  expedi- 
tions the  Germans  attached  themselves  to  their  leaders  of  their 
own  free  choice,  we  find  a  peculiar  duplicate  condition  of  the 
great  Teutonic  families  (Eastern  and  Western  Goths;  Goths 
in  all  parts  of  the  world  and  in  their  original  country ;  Scandi- 
navians and  Normans  in  Norway,  but  also  appearing  as 
knightly  adventurers  in  the  wide  world).  However  different 
might  be  the  fates  of  these  peoples,  they  nevertheless  had  one 
aim  in  common — to  procure  themselves  possessions,  and  to 
develop  themselves  in  the  direction  of  political  organization. 
This  process  of  growth  is  equally  characteristic  of  all.  In  the 
West — in  Spain  and  Portugal — the  Suevi  and  Vandals  are  the 
first  settlers,  but  are  subdued  and  dispossessed  by  the  Visigoths. 
A  great  Visigothic  kingdom  was  established,  to  which  Spain, 
Portugal,  and  a  part  of  Southern  France  belonged.  The  second 
kingdom  is  that  of  the  Franks — a  name  which,  from  the  end 
of  the  second  century,  was  given  in  common  to  the  Istasvonian 
races  between  the  Rhine  and  the  Weser.  They  established 
themselves  between  the  Moselle  and  the  Scheldt,  and  under 
their  leader,  Clovis,  pressed  forward  into  Gaul  as  far  as  the 
Loire.  He  afterwards  reduced  the  Franks  on  the  Lower  Rhine, 
and  the  Alemanni  on  the  Upper  Rhine;  his  sons  subjugated 
the  Thuringians  and  Burgundians.  The  third  kingdom  is  that 
of  the  Ostrogoths  in  Italy,  founded  by  Theodoric,  and  highly 
flourishing  beneath  his  rule.  The  learned  Romans  Cassiodorus 
and  Boethius  filled  the  highest  offices  of  state  under  Theodoric. 
But  this  Ostrogothic  kingdom  did  not  last  long;  it  was  de- 
stroyed by  the  Byzantines  under  Belisarius  and  Narses.  In 
the  second  half  (568)  of  the  sixth  century,  the  Lombards  in- 
vaded Italy  and  ruled  for  two  centuries,  till  this  kingdom  also 
was  subjected  to  the  Frank  sceptre  by  Charlemagne.  At  a 
later  date,  the  Normans  also  established  themselves  in  Lower 
Italy.  Our  attention  is  next  claimed  by  the  Burgundians,  who 
were  subjugated  by  the  Franks,  and  whose  kingdom  forms  a 


THE   GERMAN    WORLD  349 

kind  of  partition  wall  between  France  and  Germany.  The 
Angles  and  Saxons  entered  Britain  and  reduced  it  under  their 
sway.  Subsequently,  the  Normans  make  their  appearance  here 
also. 

These  countries — previously  a  part  of  the  Roman  empire — 
thus  experienced  the  fate  of  subjugation  by  the  Barbarians. 
In  the  first  instance,  a  great  contrast  presented  itself  between 
the  already  civilized  inhabitants  of  those  countries  and  the  vic- 
tors; but  this  contrast  terminated  in  the  hybrid  character  of 
the  new  nations  that  were  now  formed.  The  whole  mental 
and  moral  existence  of  such  states  exhibits  a  divided  aspect; 
in  their  inmost  being  we  have  characteristics  that  point  to  an 
alien  origin.  This  distinction  strikes  us  even  on  the  surface, 
in  their  language,  which  is  an  intermixture  of  the  ancient  Ro- 
man— already  united  with  the  vernacular — and  the  German. 
We  may  class  these  nations  together  as  Romanic — comprehend- 
ing thereby  Italy,  Spain,  Portugal,  and  France.  Contrasted 
with  these  stand  three  others,  more  or  less  German-speaking 
nations,  which  have  maintained  a  consistent  tone  of  uninter- 
rupted fidelity  to  native  character — Germany  itself,  Scandi- 
navia, and  England.  The  last  was,  indeed,  incorporated  in  the 
Roman  empire,  but  was  affected  by  Roman  culture  little  more 
than  superficially — like  Germany  itself — and  was  again  Ger- 
manized by  Angles  and  Saxons.  Germany  Proper  kept  itself 
pure  from  any  admixture ;  only  the  southern  and  western  bor- 
der— on  the  Danube  and  the  Rhine — had  been  subjugated  by 
the  Romans.  The  portion  between  the  Rhine  and  the  Elbe 
remained  thoroughly  national.  This  part  of  Germany  was  in- 
habited by  several  tribes.  Besides  the  Ripuarian  Franks  and 
those  established  by  Clovis  in  the  districts  of  the  Maine,  four 
leading  tribes — the  Alemanni,  the  Boioarians,  the  Thuringians, 
and  the  Saxons — must  be  mentioned.  The  Scandinavians  re- 
tained in  their  fatherland  a  similar  purity  from  intermixture; 
and  also  made  themselves  celebrated  by  their  expeditions,  under 
the  name  of  Normans.  They  extended  their  chivalric  enter- 
prises over  almost  all  parts  of  Europe.  Part  of  them  went  to 
Russia,  and  there  became  the  founders  of  the  Russian  Empire ; 
part  settled  in  Northern  France  and  Britain;  another  estab- 
lished principalities  in  Lower  Italy  and  Sicily.  Thus  a  part 
of  the  Scandinavians  founded  states  in  foreign  lands,  another 
maintained  its  nationality  by  the  ancestral  hearth, 


350  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

We  find,  moreover,  in  the  East  of  Europe,  the  great  Sclavoni 
nation,  whose  settlements  extended  west  of  the  Elbe  to  the  Dan- 
ube. The  Magyars  (Hungarians)  settled  in  between  them. 
In  Moldavia,  Wallachia  and  northern  Greece  appear  the  Bul- 
garians, Servians,  and  Albanians,  likewise  of  Asiatic  origin — 
left  behind  as  broken  barbarian  remains  in  the  shocks  and 
counter-shocks  of  the  advancing  hordes.  These  people  did, 
indeed,  found  kingdoms  and  sustain  spirited  conflicts  with  the 
various  nations  that  came  across  their  path.  Sometimes,  as  an 
advanced  guard — an  intermediate  nationality — they  took  part 
in  the  struggle  between  Christian  Europe  and  unchristian  Asia. 
The  Poles  even  liberated  beleaguered  Vienna  from  the  Turks ; 
and  the  Sclaves  have  to  some  extent  been  drawn  within  the 
sphere  of  Occidental  Reason.  Yet  this  entire  body  of  peoples 
remains  excluded  from  our  consideration,  because  hitherto  it 
has  not  appeared  as  an  independent  element  in  the  series  of 
phases  that  Reason  has  assumed  in  the  World.  Whether  it 
will  do  so  hereafter,  is  a  question  that  does  not  concern  us 
here;   for  in  History  we  have  to  do  with  the  Past. 

The  German  Nation  was  characterized  by  the  sense  of  Nat- 
ural Totality — an  idiosyncrasy  which  we  may  call  Heart  [Ge- 
muth]  .*  "  Heart  "  is  that  undeveloped,  indeterminate  totality 
of  Spirit,  in  reference  to  the  Will,  in  which  satisfaction  of  soul 
is  attained  in  a  correspondingly  general  and  indeterminate  way. 
Character  is  a  particular  form  of  will  and  interest  asserting 
itself;  but  the  quality  in  question  [Gemiithlichkeit]  has  no  par- 
ticular aim — riches,  honor,  or  the  like ;  in  fact  does  not  concern 
itself  with  any  objective  condition  [a  "  position  in  the  world  " 
in  virtue  of  wealth,  dignity,  etc.]  but  with  the  entire  condition 
of  the  soul — a  general  sense  of  enjoyment.  Will  in  the  case 
of  such  an  idiosyncrasy  is  exclusively  formal  Will  f — its  purely 

*  The  word  "  Gemtith  "  has  no  exactly  For  however  rigid  the  restraints  which 
corresponding  term  in  English.  It  is  those  principles  impose  on  individuals, 
used  further  on  synonymously  with  they  are  the  result  of  no  extraneous 
"  Herz,"  and  the  openness  to  various  compulsion  brought  to  bear  on  the  corn- 
emotions  and  impressions  which  it  im-  munity  at  large,  and  are  recognized  as 
plies,  may  perhaps  be  approximately  rightfully  authoritative  even  by  the  in- 
rendered  by  "  Heart."  Yet  it  is  but  an  dividuals  whose  physical  comfort  or  rela- 
awkward  substitute.  tive  affections  they  most  painfully  con- 

t  Formal  Will  or  Subjective  Freedom  travene.    Unquestioning  homage  to  un- 

is  inclination  or  mere  casual  liking,  and  reasonable    despotism,    and    the    severe 

is  opposed  to  Substantial  or  Objective  rubrics   of   religious   penance,     can     be 

Will — also  called    Objective   Freedom—  traced  to  no  natural  necessity  or  stimu- 

which  denotes  the  principles  that  form  lus  ab  extra.     The  principles  in  which 

the  basis  of  society,  and  that  have  been  these  originate,  may  rather  be  called  the 

spontaneously  adopted  by  particular  na-  settled  and  supreme  determination   of  the 

tions  or  by  mankind  generally.    The  lat-  community  that  recognizes  them.    The 

ter  as  well  as  the  former  may  lay  claim  term  "  Objective  Will  "  seems  therefore 

to  being  a  manifestation  of  Human  Will.  not  unfitly  used  to  describe  the  psycho- 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD 


351 


subjective  Freedom  exhibits  itself  as  self-will.  To  the  dispo- 
sition thus  designated,  every  particular  object  of  attraction 
seems  important,  for  "  Heart  "  surrenders  itself  entirely  to 
each ;  but  as,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  interested  in  the  quality 
of  such  aim  in  the  abstract,  it  does  not  become  exclusively  ab- 
sorbed in  that  aim,  so  as  to  pursue  it  with  violent  and  evil  pas- 
sion— does  not  go  the  length  of  abstract  vice.  In  the  idiosyn- 
crasy we  term  "  Heart,"  no  such  absorption  of  interest  presents 
itself ;  it  wears,  on  the  whole,  the  appearance  of  "  well-mean- 
ing."    Character  is  its  direct  opposite.* 

This  is  the  abstract  principle  innate  in  the  German  peoples, 
and  that  subjective  side  which  they  present  to  the  objective  in 
Christianity.  "  Heart  "  has  no  particular  object ;  in  Christianity 
we  have  the  Absolute  Object  [i.e.  it  is  concerned  with  the  entire 
range  of  Truth] — all  that  can  engage  and  occupy  human  sub- 
jectivity. Now  it  is  the  desire  of  satisfaction  without  further 
definition  or  restriction,  that  is  involved  in  "  Heart " ;  and  it  is 
exactly  that  for  which  we  found  an  appropriate  application  in 
the  principle  of  Christianity.  The  Indefinite  as  Substance,  in 
objectivity,  is  the  purely  Universal — God;  while  the  reception 
of  the  individual  will  to  a  participation  in  His  favor,  is  the  com- 
plementary element  in  the  Christian  concrete  Unity.  The  ab- 
solutely Universal  is  that  which  contains  in  it  all  determinations, 
and  in  virtue  of  this  is  itself  indeterminate.  Subject  [individual 
personality]  is  the  absolutely  determinate;  and  these  two  are 
identical.!  This  was  exhibited  above  as  the  material  content 
[Inhalt]  in  Christianity;  here  we  find  it  subjectively  as 
"  Heart."  Subject  [Personality]  must  then  also  gain  an  ob- 
jective form,  that  is,  be  expanded  to  an  object.    It  is  necessary 

logical  phenomena  in  question.  The  manifestly  objective,  all  that  is  evidently 
term  "  Substantial  Will  "  (as  opposed  to  Not-Self,  but  also  abstracts  from  any 
"  Formal  Will  ")>  denoting  the  same  peculiar  conditions  that  may  temporarily 
phenomena,  needs  nc  defence  or  expla-  adhere  to  it,  e.g.  youth  or  age,  riches  or 
nation.  The  third  term,  "  Objective  poverty,  a  present  or  a  future  state. 
Freedom,"  used  synonymously  with  the  Thus  though  it  seems,  prima  facie,  a 
two  preceding,  is  justified  on  the  ground  fixed  point  or  atom,  it  is  absolutely  un- 
of  the  unlimited  dominion  exercised  by  limited.  By  loss  or  degradation  of  bodily 
such  principles  as  those  mentioned  and  mental  faculties,  it  is  possible  to  con- 
above.  "  Deus  solus  liber."  (See  re-  ceive  one's  self  degraded  to  a  position 
marks  to  this  effect  on  page  35  of  the  In-  which  it  would  be  impossible  to  distin- 
troduction,    and   elsewhere.)  guish  from  that  which  we  attribute  to 

*  An  incapacity  for  conspiracy  has  been  the  brutes,  or  by  increase  and  improve- 

remarked  as  a  characteristic  feature  of  ment  of  those  faculties,  indefinitely  ele- 

the   Teutonic  portion  of  the  inhabitants  vated  in  the  scale  of  being,  while  yet  self 

of  the  British  Isles,   as  compared  with  — personal  identity — is  retained.    On  the 

their  Celtic  countrymen.    If  such  a  dif-  other  hand,  Absolute  Being  in  the  Chris- 

ference   can  be  substantiated,   we   seem  tian  concrete  view,  is  an  Infinite  Self, 

to    have   an   important   illustration   and  The  Absolutely  Limited  is  thus  shown 

confirmation  of  Hegel's  view. — Ed.  to  be  identical  with  the  Absolutely  Un- 

t  Pure  Self — pure  subjectivity  or  per-  limited, 
sonality — not  only   excludes  all  that   is 


352  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

that  for  the  indefinite  susceptibilty  which  we  designate 
"  Heart,"  the  Absolute  also  should  assume  the  form  of  an  Ob- 
ject, in  order  that  man  on  his  part  may  attain  a  consciousness 
of  his  unity  with  that  object.  But  this  recognition  of  the  Abso- 
lute [in  Christ]  requires  the  purification  of  man's  subjectivity 
— requires  it  to  become  a  real,  concrete  self,  a  sharer  in  general 
interests  as  a  denizen  of  the  world  at  large,  and  that  it  should 
act  in  accordance  with  large  and  liberal  aims,  recognize  Law, 
and  find  satisfaction  in  it. — Thus  we  find  here  two  principles 
corresponding  the  one  with  the  other,  and  recognize  the  adap- 
tation of  the  German  peoples  to  be,  as  we  stated  above,  the 
bearers  of  the  higher  principle  of  Spirit. 

We  advance  then  to  the  consideration  of  the  German  prin- 
ciple in  its  primary  phase  of  existence,  i.e.  the  earliest  historical 
condition  of  the  German  nations.  Their  quality  of  "  Heart " 
is  in  its  first  appearance  quite  abstract,  undeveloped  and  desti- 
tute of  any  particular  object;  for  substantial  aims  are  not  in- 
volved in  "  Heart "  itself.  Where  this  susceptibilty  stands 
alone,  it  appears  as  a  want  of  character — mere  inanity. 
"  Heart "  as  purely  abstract,  is  dulness ;  thus  we  see  in  the 
original  condition  of  the  Germans  a  barbarian  dulness,  mental 
confusion  and  vagueness,  ( Of  the  Religion  of  the  Germans 
we  know  little. — The  Druids  belonged  to  Gaul  and  were  extir- 
pated by  the  Romans.  There  was  indeed,  a  peculiar  northern 
mythology ;  but  how  slight  a  hold  the  religion  of  the  Germans 
had  upon  their  hearts,  has  been  already  remarked,  and  it  is 
also  evident  from  the  fact  that  the  Germans  were  easily  con- 
verted to  Christianity.  The  Saxons,  it  is  true,  offered  consid- 
erable resistance  to  Charlemagne ;  but  this  was  directed,  not 
so  much  against  the  religion  he  brought  with  him,  as  against 
oppression  itself.  Their  religion  had  no  profundity;  and  the 
same  may  be  said  of  their  ideas  of  law.  Murder  was  not  re- 
garded and  punished  as  a  crime :  it  was  expiated  by  a  pecuniary 
fine.  This  indicates  a  deficiency  in  depth  of  sentiment — that 
absence  of  a  power  of  abstraction  and  discrimination  that  marks 
their  peculiar  temperament  [Nichtentzweitseyn  des  Gemiithes] 
— a  temperament  which  leads  them  to  regard  it  only  as  an  in- 
jury to  the  community  when  one  of  its  members  is  killed,  and 
nothing  further.  The  blood-revenge  of  the  Arabs  is  based  on 
the  feeling  that  the  honor  of  the  Family  is  injured.  Among 
the  Germans  the  community  had  no  dominion  over  the  indi- 


THE   GERMAN    WORLD 


353 


vidual,  for  the  element  of  freedom  is  the  first  consideration  in 
their  union  in  a  social  relationship.  The  ancient  Germans  were 
famed  for  their  love  of  freedom ;  the  Romans  formed  a  correct 
idea  of  them  in  this  particular  from  the  first.  Freedom  has 
been  the  watchword  in  Germany  down  to  the  most  recent  times, 
and  even  the  league  of  princes  under  Frederick  II  had  its  ori- 
gin in  the  love  of  liberty.  This  element  of  freedom,  in  passing 
over  to  a  social  relationship,  can  establish  only  popular  com- 
munities ;  so  that  these  communities  constitute  the  whole  state, 
and  every  member  of  the  community,  as  such,  is  a  free  man. 
Homicide  could  be  expiated  by  a  pecuniary  mulct,  because  the 
individuality  of  the  free  man  was  regarded  as  sacred — perma- 
nently and  inviolably — whatever  he  might  have  done.  The 
community  or  its  presiding  power,  with  the  assistance  of  mem- 
bers of  the  community,  delivered  judgment  in  affairs  of  private 
right,  with  a  view  to  the  protection  of  person  and  property. 
For  affairs  affecting  the  body  politic  at  large — for  wars  and 
similar  contingencies — the  whole  community  had  to  be  con- 
sulted. The  second  point  to  be  observed  is,  that  social  nuclei 
were  formed  by  free  confederation,  and  by  voluntary  attach- 
ment to  military  leaders  and  princes.  The  connection  in  this 
case  was  that  of  Fidelity;  for  Fidelity  is  the  second  watchword 
of  the  Germans,  as  Freedom  was  the  first.  Individuals  attach 
themselves  with  free  choice  to  an  individual,  and  without  ex- 
ternal prompting  make  this  relation  an  inviolable  one.  This 
we  find  neither  among  the  Greeks  nor  the  Romans.  The  rela- 
tion of  Agamemnon  and  the  princes  who  accompanied  him  was 
not  that  of  feudal  suit  and  service:  it  was  a  free  association 
merely  for  a  particular  purpose — a  Hegemony.  But  the  Ger- 
man confederations  have  their  being  not  in  a  relation  to  a  mere 
external  aim  or  cause,  but  in  a  relation  to  the  spiritual  self — 
the  subjective  inmost  personality.  Heart,  disposition,  the  con- 
crete subjectivity  in  its  integrity,  which  does  not  attach  itself 
to  any  abstract  bearing  of  an  object,  but  regards  the  whole  of 
it  as  a  condition  of  attachment — making  itself  dependent  on 
the  person  and  the  cause — renders  this  relation  a  compound  of 
fidelity  to  a  person  and  obedience  to  a  principle. 

The  union  of  the  two  relations — of  individual  freedom  in 
the  community,  and  of  the  bond  implied  in  association — is  the 
main  point  in  the  formation  of  the  State.  In  this,  duties  and 
rights  are  no  longer  left  to  arbitrary  choice,  but  are  determined 


354  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

as  fixed  relations ; — involving,  moreover,  the  condition  that  the 
State  be  the  soul  of  the  entire  body,  and  remain  its  sovereign — 
that  from  it  should  be  derived  particular  aims  and  the  authoriza- 
tion both  of  political  acts  and  political  agents — the  generic  char- 
acter and  interests  of  the  community  constituting  the  permanent 
basis  of  the  whole.  But  here  we  have  the  peculiarity  of  the 
German  states,  that  contrary  to  the  view  thus  presented,  social 
relations  do  not  assume  the  character  of  general  definitions  and 
laws,  but  are  *  atirely  split  up  into  private  rights  and  private 
obligations  Ihty  perhaps  exhibit  a  social  or  communal  mould 
or  stamp,  but  nothing  universal;  the  laws  are  absolutely  par- 
ticular, and  the  Rights  are  Privileges.  Thus  the  state  was  a 
patchwork  of  private  rights,  and  a  rational  political  life  was 
the  tardy  issue  of  wearisome  struggles  and  convulsions. 

We  have  said,  that  the  Germans  were  predestined  to  be  the 
bearers  of  the  Christian  principle,  and  to  carry  out  the  Idea  as 
the  absolutely  Rational  aim.  In  the  first  instance  we  have  only 
vague  volition,  in  the  background  of  which  lies  the  True  and 
Infinite.  The  True  is  present  only  as  an  unsolved  problem,  for 
their  Soul  is  not  yet  purified.  A  long  process  is  required  to 
complete  this  purification  so  as  to  realize  concrete  Spirit.  Re- 
ligion comes  forward  with  a  challenge  to  the  violence  of  the 
passions,  and  rouses  them  to  madness.  The  excess  of  passions 
is  aggravated  by  evil  conscience,  and  heightened  to  an  insane 
rage;  which  perhaps  would  not  have  been  the  case,  had  that 
opposition  been  absent.  We  behold  the  terrible  spectacle  of  the 
most  fearful  extravagance  of  passion  in  all  the  royal  houses 
of  that  period.  Clovis,  the  founder  of  the  Frank  Monarchy, 
is  stained  with  the  blackest  crimes.  Barbarous  harshness  and 
cruelty  characterize  all  the  succeeding  Merovingians ;  the  same 
spectacle  is  repeated  in  the  Thuringian  and  other  royal  houses. 
The  Christian  principle  is  certainly  the  problem  implicit  in  their 
souls;  but  these  are  primarily  still  crude.  The  Will — poten- 
tially true — mistakes  itself,  and  separates  itself  from  the  true 
and  proper  aim  by  particular,  limited  aims.  Yet  it  is  in  this 
struggle  with  itself  and  contrariety  to  its  bias,  that  it  realizes 
its  wishes ;  it  contends  against  the  object  which  it  really  de- 
sires, and  thus  accomplishes  it ;  for  implicitly,  potentially,  it  is 
reconciled.  The  Spirit  of  God  lives  in  the  Church;  it  is  the 
inward  impelling  Spirit.  But  it  is  in  the  World  that  Spirit 
is  to  be  realized — in  a  material  not  yet  brought  into  harmony 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD  355 

with  it.  Now  this  material  is  the  Subjective  Will,  which  thus 
has  a  contradiction  in  itself.  On  the  religious  side,  we  often 
observe  a  change  of  this  kind :  a  man  who  has  all  his  life  been 
fighting  and  hewing  his  way — who  with  all  vehemence  of  char- 
acter and  passion,  has  struggled  and  revelled  in  secular  occu- 
pations— on  a  sudden  repudiates  it  all,  to  betake  himself  to 
religious  seclusion.  But  in  the  World,  secular  business  cannot 
be  thus  repudiated ;  it  demands  accomplishment,  and  ultimately 
the  discovery  is  made,  that  Spirit  finds  the  goal  of  its  struggle 
and  its  harmonization,  in  that  very  sphere  which  it  made  the 
object  of  its  resistance — it  finds  that  secular  pursuits  are  a  spir- 
itual occupation. 

We  thus  observe,  that  individuals  and  peoples  regard  that 
which  is  their  misfortune,  as  their  greatest  happiness,  and  con- 
versely, struggle  against  their  happiness  as  their  greatest  mis- 
ery. La  verite,  en  la  repoussant,  on  V embrasse.  Europe  comes 
to  the  truth  while,  and  to  the  degree  in  which,  she  has  repulsed 
it.  It  is  in  the  agitation  thus  occasioned,  that  Providence  es- 
pecially exercises  its  sovereignty;  realizing  its  absolute  aim — 
its  honor — as  the  result  of  unhappiness,  sorrow,  private  aims 
and  the  unconscious  will  of  the  nations  of  the  earth. 

While,  therefore,  in  the  West  this  long  process  in  the  world's 
history — necessary  to  that  purification  by  which  Spirit  in  the 
concrete  is  realized — is  commencing,  the  purification  requisite 
for  developing  Spirit  in  the  abstract  which  we  observe  carried 
on  contemporaneously  in  the  East,  is  more  quickly  accom- 
plished. The  latter  does  not  need  a  long  process,  and  we  see 
it  produced  rapidly,  even  suddenly,  in  the  first  half  of  the 
seventh  century,  in  Mahometanism. 

Chapter  It— Mohametanism 

On  the  one  hand  we  see  the  European  world  forming  itself 
anew — the  nations  taking  firm  root  there,  to  produce  a  world 
of  free  reality  expanded  and  developed  in  every  direction.  We 
behold  them  beginning  their  work  by  bringing  all  social  rela- 
tions under  the  form  of  particularity — with  dull  and  narrow  in- 
telligence splitting  that  which  in  its  nature  is  generic  and  nor- 
mal, into  a  multitude  of  chance  contingencies ;  rendering  that 
which  ought  to  be  simple  principle  and  law,  a  tangled  web  of 
convention.    In  short,  while  the  West  began  to  shelter  itself 


356  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

in  a  political  edifice  of  chance,  entanglement  and  particularity, 
the  very  opposite  direction  necessarily  made  its  appearance  in 
the  world,  to  produce  the  balance  of  the  totality  of  spiritual 
manifestation.  This  took  place  in  the  Revolution  of  the  East, 
which  destroyed  all  particularity  and  dependence,  and  perfectly 
cleared  up  and  purified  the  soul  and  disposition;  making  the 
abstract  One  the  absolute  object  of  attention  and  devotion,  and 
to  the  same  extent,  pure  subjective  consciousness— the  Knowl- 
edge of  this  One  alone — the  only  aim  of  reality; — making  the 
Unconditioned  [das  Verhaltnisslose]  the  condition  [Verhalt- 
niss]  of  existence. 

We  have  already  become  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the 
Oriental  principle,  and  seen  that  its  Highest  Being  is  only 
negative ; — that  with  it  the  positive  imports  an  abandonment 
to  mere  nature — the  enslavement  of  Spirit  to  the  world  of  real- 
ities. Only  among  the  Jews  have  we  observed  the  principle 
of  pure  Unity  elevated  to  a  thought ;  for  only  among  them  was 
adoration  paid  to  the  One,  as  an  object  of  thought.  This  unity 
then  remained,  when  the  purification  of  the  mind  to  the  concep- 
tion of  abstract  Spirit  had  been  accomplished ;  but  it  was  freed 
from  the  particularity  by  which  the  worship  of  Jehovah  had 
been  hampered.  Jehovah  was  only  the  God  of  that  one  people — 
the  God  of  Abraham,  of  Isaac  and  Jacob :  only  with  the  Jews 
had  this  God  made  a  covenant;  only  to  this  people  had  he  re- 
vealed himself.  That  speciality  of  relation  was  done  away  with 
in  Mahometanism.  In  this  spiritual  universality,  in  this  un- 
limited and  indefinite  purity  and  simplicity  of  conception,  hu- 
man personality  has  no  other  aim  than  the  realization  of  this 
universality  and  simplicity.  Allah  has  not  the  affirmative,  lim- 
ited aim  of  the  Judaic  God.  The  worship  of  the  One  is  the  only 
final  aim  of  Mahometanism,  and  subjectivity  has  this  worship 
for  the  sole  occupation  of  its  activity,  combined  with  the  design 
to  subjugate  secular  existence  to  the  One.  This  One  has  in- 
deed, the  quality  of  Spirit;  yet  because  subjectivity  suffers 
itself  to  be  absorbed  in  the  object,  this  One  is  deprived  of  every 
concrete  predicate ;  so  that  neither  does  subjectivity  become  on 
its  part  spiritually  free,  nor  on  the  other  hand  is  the  object  of  its 
veneration  concrete.  But  Mahometanism  is  not  the  Hindoo, 
not  the  Monastic  immersion  in  the  Absolute.  Subjectivity  is 
here  living  and  unlimited — an  energy  which  enters  into  secular 
life  with  a  purely  negative  purpose,  and  busies  itself  and  inter- 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD  357 

feres  with  the  world,  only  in  such  a  way  as  shall  promote  the 
pure  adoration  of  the  One.  The  object  of  Mahometan  worship 
is  purely  intellectual ;  no  image,  no  representation  of  Allah  is 
tolerated.  Mahomet  is  a  prophet  but  still  man — not  elevated 
above  human  weaknesses.  The  leading  features  of  Mahome- 
tanism  involve  this — that  in  actual  existence  nothing  can  be- 
come fixed,  but  that  everything  is  destined  to  expand  itself  in 
activity  and  life  in  the  boundless  amplitude  of  the  world,  so 
that  the  worship  of  the  One  remains  the  only  bond  by  which  the 
whole  is  capable  of  uniting.  In  this  expansion,  this  active  en- 
ergy, all  limits,  all  national  and  caste  distinctions  vanish;  no 
particular  race,  political  claim  of  birth  or  possession  is  regarded 
— only  man  as  a  believer.  To  adore  the  One,  to  believe  in  him, 
to  fast — to  remove  the  sense  of  speciality  and  consequent  sepa- 
ration from  the  Infinite,  arising  from  corporeal  limitation — and 
to  give  alms — that  is,  to  get  rid  of  particular  private  possession 
— these  are  the  essence  of  Mahometan  injunctions;  but  the 
highest  meed  is  to  die  for  the  Faith.  He  who  perishes  for  it 
in  battle  is  sure  of  Paradise. 

The  Mahometan  religion  originated  among  the  Arabs.  Here 
Spirit  exists  in  its  simplest  form,  and  the  sense  of  the  Form- 
less has  its  especial  abode ;  for  in  their  deserts  nothing  can  be 
brought  into  a  firm  consistent  shape.  The  flight  of  Mahomet 
from  Mecca  in  the  year  622  is  the  Moslem  era.  Even  during 
his  life,  and  under  his  own  leadership,  but  especially  by  follow- 
ing up  his  designs  after  his  death  under  the  guidance  of  his 
successors,  the  Arabs  achieved  their  vast  conquests.  They  first 
came  down  upon  Syria  and  conquered  its  capital  Damascus  in 
the  year  634.  They  then  passed  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris  and 
turned  their  arms  against  Persia,  which  soon  submitted  to  them. 
In  the  West  they  conquered  Egypt,  Northern  Africa  and  Spain, 
and  pressed  into  Southern  France  as  far  as  the  Loire,  where 
they  were  defeated  by  Charles  Martel  near  Tours,  a.d.  732. 
Thus  the  dominion  of  the  Arabs  extended  itself  in  the  West. 
In  the  East  they  reduced  successively  Persia,  as  already  stated, 
Samarkand,  and  the  Southwestern  part  of  Asia  Minor.  These 
conquests,  as  also  the  spread  of  their  religion,  took  place  with 
extraordinary  rapidity.  Whoever  became  a  convert  to  Islam 
gained  a  perfect  equality  of  rights  with  all  Mussulmans.  Those 
who  rejected  it,  were,  during  the  earliest  period,  slaughtered. 
Subsequently,  however,  the  Arabs  behaved  more  leniently  to  the 


35*  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

conquered ;  so  that  if  they  were  unwilling  to  go  over  to  Islam, 
they  were  only  required  to  pay  an  annual  poll-tax.  The  towns 
that  immediately  submitted,  were  obliged  to  pay  the  victor  a 
tithe  of  all  their  possessions ;  those  which  had  to  be  captured, 
a  fifth. 

Abstraction  swayed  the  minds  of  the  Mahometans.  Their 
object  was,  to  establish  an  abstract  worship,  and  they  struggled 
for  its  accomplishment  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm.  This 
enthusiasm  was  Fanaticism,  that  is,  an  enthusiasm  for  some- 
thing abstract — for  an  abstract  thought  which  sustains  a  nega- 
tive position  towards  the  established  order  of  things.  It  is 
the  essence  of  fanaticism  to  bear  only  a  desolating  destructive 
relation  to  the  concrete ;  but  that  of  Mahometanism  was,  at  the 
same  time,  capable  of  the  greatest  elevation — an  elevation  free 
from  all  petty  interests,  and  united  with  all  the  virtues  that  ap- 
pertain to  magnanimity  and  valor.  La  religion  et  la  terreur 
were  the  principles  in  this  case,  as  with  Robespierre  la  liberie  et 
la  terreur.  But  real  life  is  nevertheless  concrete,  and  introduces 
particular  aims;  conquest  leads  to  sovereignty  and  wealth,  to 
the  conferring  of  prerogatives  on  a  dynastic  family,  and  to  a 
union  of  individuals.  But  all  this  is  only  contingent  and  built 
on  sand ;  it  is  to-day,  and  to-morrow  is  not.  With  all  the  pas- 
sionate interest  he  shows,  the  Mahometan  is  really  indifferent 
to  this  social  fabric,  and  rushes  on  in  the  ceaseless  whirl  of  for- 
tune. In  its  spread  Mahometanism  founded  many  kingdoms 
and  dynasties.  On  this  boundless  sea  there  is  a  continual  on- 
ward movement ;  nothing  abides  firm.  Whatever  curls  up  into 
a  form  remains  all  the  while  transparent,  and  in  that  very  in- 
stant glides  away.  Those  dynasties  were  destitute  of  the  bond 
of  an  organic  firmness:  the  kingdoms,  therefore,  did  nothing 
but  degenerate ;  the  individuals  that  composed  them  simply 
vanished.  Where,  however,  a  noble  soul  makes  itself  promi- 
nent— like  a  billow  in  the  surging  of  the  sea — it  manifests  itself 
in  a  majesty  of  freedom,  such  that  nothing  more  noble,  more 
generous,  more  valiant,  more  devoted  was  ever  witnessed.  The 
particular  determinate  object  which  the  individual  embraces 
is  grasped  by  him  entirely — with  the  whole  soul.  While  Euro- 
peans are  involved  in  a  multitude  of  relations,  and  form,  so  to 
speak,  "  a  bundle  "  of  them — in  Mahometanism  the  individual 
is  one  passion  and  that  alone;  he  is  superlatively  cruel,  cun- 
ning, bold,  or  generous.     Where  the  sentiment  of  love  exists. 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  359 

there  is  an  equal  abandon — love  the  most  fervid.  The  ruler 
who  loves  the  slave,  glorifies  the  object  of  his  love  by  laying  at 
his  feet  all  his  magnificence,  power  and  honor — forgetting  scep- 
tre and  throne  for  him ;  but  on  the  other  hand  he  will  sacrifice 
him  just  as  recklessly.  This  reckless  fervor  shows  itself  also 
in  the  glowing  warmth  of  the  Arab  and  Saracen  poetry.  That 
glow  is  the  perfect  freedom  of  fancy  from  every  fetter — an 
absorption  in  the  life  of  its  object  and  the  sentiment  it  inspires, 
so  that  selfishness  and  egotism  are  utterly  banished. 

Never  has  enthusiasm,  as  such,  performed  greater  deeds. 
Individuals  may  be  enthusiastic  for  what  is  noble  and  exalted  in 
various  particular  forms.  The  enthusiasm  of  a  people  for  its 
independence,  has  also  a  definite  aim.  But  abstract  and  there- 
fore all-comprehensive  enthusiasm — restrained  by  nothing, 
finding  its  limits  nowhere,  and  absolutely  indifferent  to  all  be- 
side— is  that  of  the  Mahometan  East. 

Proportioned  to  the  rapidity  of  the  Arab  conquests,  was  the 
speed  with  which  the  arts  and  sciences  attained  among  them 
their  highest  bloom.  At  first  we  see  the  conquerors  destroy- 
ing everything  connected  with  art  and  science.  Omar  is  said 
to  have  caused  the  destruction  of  the  noble  Alexandrian  library. 
"  These  books,"  said  he,  "  either  contain  what  is  in  the  Koran, 
or  something  else :  in  either  case  they  are  superfluous."  But 
soon  afterwards  the  Arabs  became  zealous  in  promoting  the 
arts  and  spreading  them  everywhere.  Their  empire  reached 
the  summit  of  its  glory  under  the  Caliphs  Al-Mansor  and 
Haroun  Al-Raschid.  Large  cities  arose  in  all  parts  of  the  em- 
pire, where  commerce  and  manufactures  flourished,  splendid 
palaces  were  built,  and  schools  created.  The  learned  men  of 
the  empire  assembled  at  the  Caliph's  court,  which  not  merely 
shone  outwardly  with  the  pomp  of  the  costliest  jewels,  furni- 
ture and  palaces,  but  was  resplendent  with  the  glory  of  poetry 
and  all  the  sciences.  At  first  the  Caliphs  still  maintained  entire 
that  simplicity  and  plainness  which  characterized  the  Arabs  of 
the  desert,  (the  Caliph  Abubeker  is  particularly  famous  in  this 
respect,)  and  which  acknowledged  no  distinction  of  station  and 
culture.  The  meanest  Saracen,  the  most  insignificant  old 
woman,  approached  the  Caliph  as  an  equal.  Unreflecting 
naivete  does  not  stand  in  need  of  culture ;  and  in  virtue  of  the 
freedom  of  his  Spirit,  each  one  sustains  a  relation  of  equality 
to  the  ruler. 


360  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

The  great  empire  of  the  Caliphs  did  not  last  long:  for  on 
the  basis  presented  by  Universality  nothing  is  firm.  The  great 
Arabian  empire  fell  about  the  same  time  as  that  of  the  Franks : 
thrones  were  demolished  by  slaves  and  by  fresh  invading  hordes 
— the  Seljuks  and  Mongols — and  new  kingdoms  founded,  new 
dynasties  raised  to  the  throne.  The  Osman  race  at  last  suc- 
ceeded in  establishing  a  firm  dominion,  by  forming  for  them- 
selves a  firm  centre  in  the  Janizaries.  Fanaticism  having  cooled 
down,  no  moral  principle  remained  in  men's  souls.  In  the 
struggle  with  the  Saracens,  European  valor  had  idealized  itself 
to  a  fair  and  noble  chivalry.  Science  and  knowledge,  espe- 
cially that  of  philosophy,  came  from  the  Arabs  into  the  West. 
A  noble  poetry  and  free  imagination  were  kindled  among  the 
Germans  by  the  East — a  fact  which  directed  Goethe's  attention 
to  the  Orient  and  occasioned  the  composition  of  a  string  of  lyric 
pearls,  in  his  "  Divan,"  which  in  warmth  and  felicity  of  fancy 
cannot  be  surpassed.  But  the  East  itself,  when  by  degrees  en- 
thusiasm had  vanished,  sank  into  the  grossest  vice.  The  most 
hideous  passions  became  dominant,  and  as  sensual  enjoyment 
was  sanctioned  in  the  first  form  which  Mahometan  doctrine 
assumed,  and  was  exhibited  as  a  reward  of  the  faithful  in  Para- 
dise, it  took  the  place  of  fanaticism.  At  present,  driven  back 
into  its  Asiatic  and  African  quarters,  and  tolerated  only  in  one 
corner  of  Europe  through  the  jealousy  of  Christian  Powers,  Is- 
lam has  long  vanished  from  the  stage  of  history  at  large,  and 
has  retreated  into  Oriental  ease  and  repose. 

Chapter  III. — The  Empire  of  Charlemagne 

The  empire  of  the  Franks,  as  already  stated,  was  founded  by 
Clovis.  After  his  death,  it  was  divided  among  his  sons.  Sub- 
sequently, after  many  struggles  and  the  employment  of  treach- 
ery, assassination  and  violence,  it  was  again  united,  and  once 
more  divided.  Internally  the  power  of  the  kings  was  very  much 
increased,  by  their  having  become  princes  in  conquered  lands. 
These  were  indeed  parcelled  out  among  the  Frank  freemen ; 
but  very  considerable  permanent  revenues  accrued  to  the  king, 
together  with  what  had  belonged  to  the  emperors,  and  the  spoils 
of  confiscation.  These  therefore  the  king  bestowed  as  per- 
sonal, i.e.  not  heritable,  beneiicia,  on  his  warriors,  who  in  receiv- 
ing them  entered  into  a  personal  obligation  to  him — became  his 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  361 

vassals  and  formed  his  feudal  array.  The  very  opulent  Bishops 
were  united  with  them  in  constituting  the  King's  Council, 
which  however  did  not  circumscribe  the  royal  authority.  At  the 
head  of  the  feudal  array  was  the  Major  Domus.  These  Ma- 
jores  Domus  soon  assumed  the  entire  power  and  threw  the 
royal  authority  into  the  shade,  while  the  kings  sank  into  a  tor- 
pid condition  and  became  mere  puppets.  From  the  former 
sprang  the  dynasty  of  the  Carlovingians.  Pepin  le  Bref,  the 
son  of  Charles  Martel,  was  in  the  year  752  raised  to  the  dignity 
of  King  of  the  Franks.  Pope  Zacharias  released  the  Franks 
from  their  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  still  living  Childeric  III — 
the  last  of  the  Merovingians — who  received  the  tonsure,  i.e. 
became  a  monk,  and  was  thus  deprived  of  the  royal  distinction 
of  long  hair.  The  last  of  the  Merovingians  were  utter  weak- 
lings, who  contented  themselves  with  the  name  of  royalty,  and 
gave  themselves  up  almost  entirely  to  luxury — a  phenomenon 
that  is  quite  common  in  the  dynasties  of  the  East,  and  is  also 
met  with  again  among  the  last  of  the  Carlovingians.  The 
Majores  Domus,  on  the  contrary,  were  in  the  very  vigor  of 
ascendant  fortunes,  and  were  in  such  close  alliance  with  the 
feudal  nobility,  that  it  became  easy  for  them  ultimately  to  se- 
cure the  throne. 

The  Popes  were  most  severely  pressed  by  the  Lombard  kings 
and  sought  protection  from  the  Franks.  Out  of  gratitude 
Pepin  undertook  to  defend  Stephen  II.  He  led  an  army  twice 
across  the  Alps,  and  twice  defeated  the  Lombards.  His  vic- 
tories gave  splendor  to  his  newly  established  throne,  and  en- 
tailed a  considerable  heritage  on  the  Chair  of  St.  Peter.  In 
a.d.  800  the  son  of  Pepin — Charlemagne — was  crowned  Em- 
peror by  the  Pope,  and  hence  originated  the  firm  union  of  the 
Carlovingians  with  the  Papal  See.  For  the  Roman  Empire 
continued  to  enjoy  among  the  barbarians  the  prestige  of  a  great 
power,  and  was  ever  regarded  by  them  as  the  centre  from  which 
civil  dignities,  religion,  laws  and  all  branches  of  knowledge — ■ 
beginning  with  written  characters  themselves — flowed  to  them. 
Charles  Martel,  after  he  had  delivered  Europe  from  Saracen 
domination,  was — himself  and  his  successors — dignified  with 
the  title  of  "  Patrician  "  by  the  people  and  senate  of  Rome ;  but 
Charlemagne  was  crowned  Emperor,  and  that  by  the  Pope 
himself. 

There  were  now,  therefore,  tivo  Empires,  and  in  them  the 


362  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

Christian  confession  was  gradually  divided  into  two  Churches, 
the  Greek  and  the  Roman.  The  Roman  Emperor  was  the  born 
defender  of  the  Roman  Church,  and  this  position  of  the  Em- 
peror towards  the  Pope  seemed  to  declare  that  the  Frank  sov- 
ereignty was  only  a  continuation  of  the  Roman  Empire. 

The  Empire  of  Charlemagne  had  a  very  considerable  ex- 
tent. Franconia  Proper  stretched  from  the  Rhine  to  the  Loire. 
Aquitania,  south  of  the  Loire,  was  in  768 — the  year  of  Pepin's 
death — entirely  subjugated.  The  Frank  Empire  also  included 
Burgundy,  Alemannia  (southern  Germany  between  the  Lech, 
the  Maine  and  the  Rhine),  Thuringia,  which  extended  to  the 
Saale,  and  Bavaria.  Charlemagne  likewise  conquered  the  Sax- 
ons, who  dwelt  between  the  Rhine  and  the  Weser,  and  put  an 
end  to  the  Lombard  dominion,  so  that  he  became  master  of 
Upper  and  Central  Italy. 

This  great  empire  Charlemagne  formed  into  a  systematically 
organized  State,  and  gave  the  Frank  dominion  settled  institu- 
tions adapted  to  impart  to  it  strength  and  consistency.  This 
must  however  not  be  understood,  as  if  he  first  introduced  the 
Constitution  of  his  empire  in  its  whole  extent,  but  as  implying 
that  institutions  partly  already  in  existence,  were  developed 
under  his  guidance,  and  attained  a  more  decided  and  unob- 
structed efficiency.  The  King  stood  at  the  head  of  the  officers 
of  the  empire,  and  the  principle  of  hereditary  monarchy  was  al- 
ready recognized.  The  King  was  likewise  master  of  the  armed 
force,  as  also  the  largest  landed  proprietor,  while  the  supreme 
judicial  power  was  equally  in  his  hands.  The  military  constitu- 
tion was  based  on  the  "  arriere-ban."  Every  freeman  was 
bound  to  arm  for  the  defence  of  the  realm,  and  had  to  provide 
for  his  support  in  the  field  for  a  certain  time.  This  militia  (as 
it  would  now  be  called)  was  under  the  command  of  Counts  and 
Margraves,  which  latter  presided  over  large  districts  on  the 
borders  of  the  empire — the  "  Marches."  According  to  the  gen- 
eral partition  of  the  country,  it  was  divided  into  provinces  [or 
counties],  over  each  of  which  a  Count  presided.  Over  them 
again,  under  the  later  Carlovingians,  were  Dukes,  whose  seats 
were  large  cities,  such  as  Cologne,  Ratisbon,  and  the  like. 
Their  office  gave  occasion  to  the  division  of  the  country  into 
Duchies :  thus  there  was  a  Duchy  of  Alsatia,  Lorraine,  Frisia, 
Thuringia,  Rhsetia.  These  Dukes  were  appointed  by  the  Em- 
peror.   Peoples  that  had  retained  their  hereditary  princes  aftej 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD  363 

their  subjugation,  lost  this  privilege  and  received  Dukes,  when 
they  revolted;  this  was  the  case  with  Alemannia,  Thuringia, 
Bavaria,  and  Saxony.  But  there  was  also  a  kind  of  standing 
army  for  readier  use.  The  vassals  of  the  emperor,  namely,  had 
the  enjoyment  of  estates  on  the  condition  of  performing  mili- 
tary service,  whenever  commanded.  And  with  a  view  to  main- 
tain these  arrangements,  commissioners  (Missi)  were  sent  out 
by  the  emperor,  to  observe  and  report  concerning  the  affairs  of 
the  Empire,  and  to  inquire  into  the  state  of  judicial  administra- 
tion and  inspect  the  royal  estates. 

Not  less  remarkable  is  the  management  of  the  revenues  of  the 
state.  There  were  no  direct  taxes,  and  few  tolls  on  rivers  and 
roads,  of  which  several  were  farmed  out  to  the  higher  officers 
of  the  empire.  Into  the  treasury  flowed  on  the  one  hand  judicial 
fines,  on  the  other  hand  the  pecuniary  satisfactions  made  for 
not  serving  in  the  army  at  the  emperor's  summons.  Those  who 
enjoyed  beneiicia,  lost  them  on  neglecting  this  duty.  The  chief 
revenue  was  derived  from  the  crown-lands,  of  which  the  em- 
peror had  a  great  number,  on  which  royal  palaces  [Pfalzen] 
were  erected.  It  had  been  long  the  custom  for  the  kings  to 
make  progresses  through  the  chief  provinces,  and  to  remain 
for  a  time  in  each  palatinate;  the  due  preparations  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  court  having  been  already  made  by  Mar- 
shals, Chamberlains,  etc. 

As  regards  the  administration  of  justice,  criminal  causes 
and  those  which  concern  real  property  were  tried  before  the 
communal  assemblies  under  the  presidency  of  a  Count.  Those 
of  less  importance  were  decided  by  at  least  seven  free  men — 
an  elective  bench  of  magistrates — under  the  presidency  of  the 
Centgraves.  The  supreme  jurisdiction  belonged  to  the  royal 
tribunals,  over  which  the  king  presided  in  his  palace :  to  these 
the  feudatories,  spiritual  and  temporal,  were  amenable.  The 
royal  commissioners  mentioned  above  gave  especial  attention 
in  their  inquisitorial  visits  to  the  judicial  administration,  heard 
all  complaints,  and  punished  injustice.  A  spiritual  and  a  tem- 
poral envoy  had  to  go  their  circuit  four  times  a  year. 

In  Charlemagne's  time  the  ecclesiastical  body  had  already 
acquired  great  weight.  The  bishops  presided  over  great  cathe- 
dral establishments,  with  which  were  also  connected  seminaries 
and  scholastic  institutions.  For  Charlemagne  endeavored  to 
restore  science,  then  almost  extinct,  by  promoting  the  founda- 


364  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

tion  of  schools  in  towns  and  villages.  Pious  souls  believed  that 
they  were  doing  a  good  work  and  earning  salvation  by  mak- 
ing presents  to  the  church;  in  this  way  the  most  savage  and 
barbarous  monarchs  sought  to  atone  for  their  crimes.  Private 
persons  most  commonly  made  their  offerings  in  the  form  of  a 
bequest  of  their  entire  estate  to  religious  houses,  stipulating  for 
the  enjoyment  of  the  usufruct  only  for  life  or  for  a  specified 
time.  But  it  often  happened  that  on  the  death  of  a  bishop  or 
abbot,  the  temporal  magnates  and  their  retainers  invaded  the 
possessions  of  the  clergy,  and  fed  and  feasted  there  till  all  was 
consumed;  for  religion  had  not  yet  such  an  authority  over 
men's  minds  as  to  be  able  to  bridle  the  rapacity  of  the  powerful. 
The  clergy  were  obliged  to  appoint  stewards  and  bailiffs  to  man- 
age their  estates ;  besides  this,  guardians  had  charge  of  all  their 
secular  concerns,  led  their  men-at-arms  into  the  field,  and  gradu- 
ally obtained  from  the  king  territorial  jurisdiction,  when  the 
ecclesiastics  had  secured  the  privilege  of  being  amenable  only 
to  their  own  tribunals,  and  enjoyed  immunity  from  the  au- 
thority of  the  royal  officers  of  justice  (the  Counts).  This  in- 
volved an  important  step  in  the  change  of  political  relations, 
inasmuch  as  the  ecclesiastical  domains  assumed  more  and  more 
the  aspect  of  independent  provinces  enjoying  a  freedom  sur- 
passing anything  to  which  those  of  secular  princes  had  yet 
made  pretensions.  Moreover  the  clergy  contrived  subsequently 
to  free  themselves  from  the  burdens  of  the  state,  and  opened 
the  churches  and  monasteries  as  asylums — that  is,  inviolable 
sanctuaries  for  all  offenders.  This  institution  was  on  the  one 
hand  very  beneficial  as  a  protection  in  cases  of  violence  and 
oppression ;  but  it  was  perverted  on  the  other  hand  into  a  means 
of  impunity  for  the  grossest  crimes.  In  Charlemagne's  time, 
the  law  could  still  demand  from  conventual  authorities  the  sur-^ 
render  of  offenders.  The  bishops  were  tried  by  a  judicial  bench 
consisting  of  bishops ;  as  vassals  they  were  properly  subject  to 
the  royal  tribunal.  Afterwards  the  monastic  establishments 
sought  to  free  themselves  from  episcopal  jurisdiction  also:  and 
thus  they  made  themselves  independent  even  of  the  church. 
The  bishops  were  chosen  by  the  clergy  and  the  religious  com- 
munities at  large ;  but  as  they  were  also  vassals  of  the  sover- 
eign, their  feudal  dignity  had  to  be  conferred  by  him.  The 
contingency  of  a  contest  was  avoided  by  the  obligation  to  choose 
a  person  approved  of  by  the  king. 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  365 

The  imperial  tribunals  were  held  in  the  palace  where  the  em- 
peror resided.  The  sovereign  himself  presided  in  them,  and  the 
magnates  of  the  imperial  court  constituted  with  him  the  su- 
preme judicial  body.  The  deliberations  of  the  imperial  coun- 
cil on  the  affairs  of  the  empire  did  not  take  place  at  appointed 
times,  but  as  occasions  offered — at  military  reviews  in  the 
spring,  at  ecclesiastical  councils  and  on  court-days.  It  was 
especially  these  court-days,  to  which  the  feudal  nobles  were 
invited — when  the  king  held  his  court  in  a  particular  province, 
generally  on  the  Rhine,  the  centre  of  the  Frank  empire — that 
gave  occasion  to  the  deliberations  in  question.  Custom  re- 
quired the  sovereign  to  assemble  twice  a  year  a  select  body  of 
the  higher  temporal  and  ecclesiastical  functionaries,  but  here 
also  the  king  had  decisive  power.  These  conventions  are  there- 
fore of  a  different  character  from  the  Imperial  Diets  of  later 
times,  in  which  the  nobles  assume  a  more  independent  position. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  Frank  Empire — that  first  consolida- 
tion of  Christianity  into  a  political  form  proceeding  from  itself, 
the  Roman  empire  having  been  swallowed  up  by  Christianity. 
The  constitution  just  described  looks  excellent;  it  introduced 
a  firm  military  organization  and  provided  for  the  administration 
of  justice  within  the  empire.  Yet  after  Charlemagne's  death  it 
proved  itself  utterly  powerless — externally  defenceless  against 
the  invasions  of  the  Normans,  Hungarians,  and  Arabs,  and  in- 
ternally inefficient  in  resisting  lawlessness,  spoliation,  and  op- 
pression of  every  kind.  Thus  we  see,  side  by  side  with  an  excel- 
lent constitution,  the  most  deplorable  condition  of  things,  and 
therefore  confusion  in  all  directions.  Such  political  edifices 
need,  for  the  very  reason  that  they  originate  suddenly,  the  addi- 
tional strengthening  afforded  by  negativity  evolved  within  them- 
selves: they  need  reactions  in  every  form,  such  as  manifest 
themselves  in  the  following  period, 


SECTION  II 

THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

WHILE  the  first  period  of  the  German  World  ends  bril- 
liantly with  a  mighty  empire,  the  second  is  com- 
menced by  the  reaction  resulting  from  the  antithesis 
occasioned  by  that  infinite  falsehood  which  rules  the  destinies 
of  the  Middle  Ages  and  constitutes  their  life  and  spirit.  This 
reaction  is  first,  that  of  the  particular  nationalities  against  the 
universal  sovereignty  of  the  Frank  empire — manifesting  itself 
in  the  splitting  up  of  that  great  empire.  The  second  reaction 
is  that  of  individuals  against  legal  authority  and  the  executive 
power — against  subordination,  and  the  military  and  judicial 
arrangements  of  the  constitution.  This  produced  the  isolation 
and  therefore  defencelessness  of  individuals.  The  universality 
of  the  power  of  the  state  disappeared  through  this  reaction :  in- 
dividuals sought  protection  with  the  powerful,  and  the  latter 
became  oppressors.  Thus  was  gradually  introduced  a  condi- 
tion of  universal  dependence,  and  this  protecting  relation  is  then 
systematized  into  the  Feudal  System.  The  third  reaction  is 
that  of  the  church — the  reaction  of  the  spiritual  element  against 
the  existing  order  of  things.  Secular  extravagances  of  passion 
were  repressed  and  kept  in  check  by  the  Church,  but  the  latter 
was  itself  secularized  in  the  process,  and  abandoned  its  proper 
position.  From  that  moment  begins  the  introversion  of  the 
secular  principle.  These  relations  and  reactions  all  go  to  con- 
stitute the  history  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  culminating 
point  of  this  period  is  the  Crusades;  for  with  them  arises  a 
universal  instability,  but  one  through  which  the  states  of  Chris- 
tendom first  attain  internal  and  external  independence. 

Chapter  I. — The  Feudality  and  the  Hierarchy 

The  First  Reaction  is  that  of  particular  nationality  against 
the  universal  sovereignty  of  the  Franks.  It  appears  indeed,  at 
first  sight,  as  if  the  Frank  empire  was  divided  by  the  mere  choice 

366 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD  367 

of  its  sovereigns ;  but  another  consideration  deserves  attention, 
vis.  that  this  division  was  popular,  and  was  accordingly  main- 
tained by  the  peoples.  It  was,  therefore,  not  a  mere  dynastic 
act — which  might  appear  unwise,  since  the  princes  thereby 
weakened  their  own  power — but  a  restoration  of  those  distinct 
nationalities  which  had  been  held  together  by  a  connecting  bond 
of  irresistible  might  and  the  genius  of  a  great  man.  Louis  the 
Pious  [le  Debonnaire]  son  of  Charlemagne,  divided  the  empire 
among  his  three  sons.  But  subsequently,  by  a  second  marriage, 
another  son  was  born  to  him — Charles  the  Bald.  As  he  wished 
to  give  him  also  an  inheritance,  wars  and  contentions  arose  be- 
tween Louis  and  his  other  sons,  whose  already  received  portion 
would  have  to  be  diminished  by  such  an  arrangement.  In  the 
first  instance,  therefore,  a  private  interest  was  involved  in  the 
contest;  but  that  of  the  nations  which  composed  the  empire 
made  the  issue  not  indifferent  to  them.  The  western  Franks 
had  already  identified  themselves  with  the  Gauls,  and  with 
them  originated  a  reaction  against  the  German  Franks,  as  also  at 
a  later  epoch  one  on  the  part  of  Italy  against  the  Germans.  By 
the  treaty  of  Verdun,  a.d.  843,  a  division  of  the  empire  among 
Charlemagne's  descendants  took  place;  the  whole  Frank  em- 
pire, some  provinces  excepted,  was  for  a  moment  again  united 
under  Charles  the  Gross.  It  was,  however,  only  for  a  short 
time  that  this  weak  prince  was  able  to  hold  the  vast  empire  to- 
gether; it  was  broken  up  into  many  smaller  sovereignties, 
which  developed  and  maintined  an  independent  position.  These 
were  the  Kingdom  of  Italy,  which  was  itself  divided,  the  two 
Burgundian  sovereignties — Upper  Burgundy,  of  which  the 
chief  centres  were  Geneva  and  the  convent  of  St.  Maurice  in 
Valaise,  and  Lower  Burgundy  between  the  Jura,  the  Mediter- 
ranean and  the  Rhone — Lorraine,  between  the  Rhine  and  the 
Meuse,  Normandy,  and  Brittany.  France  Proper  was  shut  in 
between  these  sovereignties ;  and  thus  limited  did  Hugh  Capet 
find  it  when  he  ascended  the  throne.  Eastern  Franconia,  Sax- 
ony, Thuringia,  Bavaria,  Swabia,  remained  parts  of  the  German 
Empire.  Thus  did  the  unity  of  the  Frank  monarchy  fall  to 
pieces.  The  internal  arrangements  of  the  Frank  empire  also 
suffered  a  gradual  but  total  decay;  and  the  first  to  disappear 
was  the  military  organization.  Soon  after  Charlemagne  we  see 
the  Norsemen  from  various  quarters  making  inroads  into  Eng- 
land, France  and  Germany.     In  England  seven  dynasties  of 


368  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

Anglo-Saxon  Kings  were  originally  established,  but  in  the  year 
827  Egbert  united  these  sovereignties  into  a  single  kingdom. 
In  the  reign  of  his  successor  the  Danes  made  very  frequent  in- 
vasions and  pillaged  the  country.  In  Alfred  the  Great's  time 
they  met  with  vigorous  resistance,  but  subsequently  the  Dan- 
ish King  Canute  conquered  all  England.  The  inroads  of  the 
Normans  into  France  were  contemporaneous  with  these  events. 
They  sailed  up  the  Seine  and  the  Loire  in  light  boats,  plundered 
the  towns,  pillaged  the  convents,  and  went  off  with  their  booty. 
They  beleaguered  Paris  itself,  and  the  Carlovingian  Kings  were 
reduced  to  the  base  necessity  of  purchasing  a  peace.  In  the 
same  way  they  devastated  the  towns  lying  on  the  Elbe;  and 
from  the  Rhine  plundered  Aix-la-Chapelle  and  Cologne,  and 
made  Lorraine  tributary  to  them.  The  Diet  of  Worms,  in  882, 
did  indeed  issue  a  general  proclamation,  summoning  all  sub- 
jects to  rise  in  arms,  but  they  were  compelled  to  put  up  with  a 
disgraceful  composition.  These  storms  came  from  the  north 
and  the  west.  The  Eastern  side  of  the  empire  suffered  from  the 
inroads  of  the  Magyars.  These  barbarian  peoples  traversed 
the  country  in  wagons,  and  laid  waste  the  whole  of  Southern 
Germany.  Through  Bavaria,  Swabia,  and  Switzerland  they 
penetrated  into  the  interior  of  France  and  reached  Italy.  The 
Saracens  pressed  forward  from  the  South.  Sicily  had  been 
long  in  their  hands :  they  thence  obtained  a  firm  footing  in 
Italy,  menaced  Rome — which  diverted  their  attack  by  a  com- 
position— and  were  the  terror  of  Piedmont  and  Provence. 

Thus  these  three  peoples  invaded  the  empire  from  all  sides  in 
great  masses,  and  in  their  desolating  marches  almost  came  into 
contact  with  each  other.  France  was  devastated  by  the  Nor- 
mans as  far  as  the  Jura ;  the  Hungarians  reached  Switzerland, 
and  the  Saracens  Valaise.  Calling  to  mind  that  organization 
of  the  "  arriere-ban,"  and  considering  it  in  juxtaposition  with 
this  miserable  state  of  things,  we  cannot  fail  to  be  struck  with 
the  inefficiency  of  all  those  far-famed  institutions,  which  at 
such  a  juncture  ought  to  have  shown  themselves  most  effec- 
tive. We  might  be  inclined  to  regard  the  picture  of  the  noble 
and  rational  constitution  of  the  Frank  monarchy  under  Charle- 
magne— exhibiting  itself  as  strong,  comprehensive,  and  well 
ordered,  internally  and  externally — as  a  baseless  figment.  Yet 
it  actually  existed;  the  entire  political  system  being  held  to- 
gether only  by  the  power,  the  greatness,  the  regal  soul  of  this 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  369 

one  man — not  based  on  the  spirit  of  the  people — not  having  be- 
come a  vital  element  in  it.  It  was  superficially  induced — an  a 
priori  constitution  like  that  which  Napoleon  gave  to  Spain,  and 
which  disappeared  with  the  physical  power  that  sustained  it. 
That,  on  the  contrary,  which  renders  a  constitution  real,  is  that 
it  exists  as  Objective  Freedom — the  Substantial  form  of  voli- 
tion— as  duty  and  obligation  acknowledged  by  the  subjects 
themselves.  But  obligation  was  not  yet  recognized  by  the  Ger- 
man Spirit,  which  hitherto  showed  itself  only  as  "  Heart  "  and 
subjective  choice;  for  it  there  was  as  yet  no  subjectivity  in- 
volving unity,  but  only  a  subjectivity  conditioned  by  a  careless 
superficial  self-seeking.  Thus  that  constitution  was  destitute 
of  any  firm  bond;  it  had  no  objective  support  in  subjectivity; 
for  in  fact  no  constitution  was  as  yet  possible. 

This  leads  us  to  the  Second  Reaction — that  of  individuals 
against  the  authority  of  law.  The  capacity  of  appreciating  legal 
order  and  the  common  weal  is  altogether  absent,  has  no  vital 
existence  in  the  peoples  themselves.  The  duties  of  every  free 
citizen,  the  authority  of  the  judge  to  give  judicial  decisions,  that 
of  the  count  of  a  province  to  hold  his  court,  and  interest  in  the 
laws  as  such,  are  no  longer  regarded  as  valid  now  that  the 
strong  hand  from  above  ceases  to  hold  the  reins  of  sovereignty. 
The  brilliant  administration  of  Charlemagne  had  vanished 
without  leaving  a  trace,  and  the  immediate  consequence  was 
the  general  defencelessness  of  individuals.  The  need  of  pro- 
tection is  sure  to  be  felt  in  some  degree  in  every  well-organized 
state:  each  citizen  knows  his  rights  and  also  knows  that  for 
the  security  of  possession  the  social  state  is  absolutely  necessary. 
Barbarians  have  not  yet  attained  this  sense  of  need — the  want 
of  protection  from  others.  They  look  upon  it  as  a  limitation  of 
their  freedom  if  their  rights  must  be  guaranteed  them  by  others. 
Thus,  therefore,  the  impulse  towards  a  firm  organization  did 
not  exist :  men  must  first  be  placed  in  a  defenceless  condition, 
before  they  were  sensible  of  the  necessity  of  the  organization  of  a 
State.  The  political  edifice  had  to  be  reconstructed  from  the 
very  foundations.  The  commonwealth  as  then  organized  had 
no  vitality  or  firmness  at  all  either  in  itself  or  in  the  minds  of 
the  people ;  and  its  weakness  manifested  itself  in  the  fact  that 
it  was  unable  to  give  protection  to  its  individual  members.  As 
observed  above,  the  idea  of  duty  was  not  present  in  the  Spirit  of 
the  Germans ;  it  had  to  be  restored.    In  the  first  instance  voli- 


37° 


PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 


tion  could  only  be  arrested  in  its  wayward  career  in  reference  to 
the  merely  external  point  of  possession;  and  to  make  it  feel  the 
importance  of  the  protection  of  the  State,  it  had  to  be  violently 
dislodged  from  its  obtuseness  and  impelled  by  necessity  to  seek 
union  and  a  social  condition.  Individuals  were  therefore 
obliged  to  consult  for  themselves  by  taking  refuge  with  Indi- 
viduals, and  submitted  to  the  authority  of  certain  powerful  per- 
sons, who  constituted  a  private  possession  and  personal  sover- 
eignty out  of  that  authority  which  formerly  belonged  to  the 
Commonwealth.  As  officers  of  the  State,  the  counts  did  not 
meet  with  obedience  from  those  committed  to  their  charge,  and 
they  were  as  little  desirous  of  it.  Only  for  themselves  did  they 
covet  it.  They  assumed  to  themselves  the  power  of  the  State, 
and  made  the  authority  with  which  they  had  been  intrusted  as 
a  beneficium,  a  heritable  possession.  As  in  earlier  times  the 
King  or  other  magnates  conferred  fiefs  on  their  vassals  by  way 
of  rewards,  now,  conversely,  the  weaker  and  poorer  surren- 
dered their  possessions  to  the  strong,  for  the  sake  of  gaining 
efficient  protection.  They  committed  their  estates  to  a  Lord,  a 
Convent,  an  Abbot,  a  Bishop  (feudum  oblatum),  and  received 
them  back,  encumbered  with  feudal  obligations  to  these  su- 
periors. Instead  of  freemen  they  became  vassals — feudal  de- 
pendants— and  their  possession  a  beneHcium.  This  is  the  con- 
stitution of  the  Feudal  System.  "  Feudum  "  is  connected  with 
"  tides  " ;  the  fidelity  implied  in  this  case  is  a  bond  established 
on  unjust  principles,  a  relation  that  does  indeed  contemplate  a 
legitimate  object,  but  whose  import  is  not  a  whit  the  less  in- 
justice; for  the  fidelity  of  vassals  is  not  an  obligation  to  the 
Commonwealth,  but  a  private  one — ipso  facto  therefore  subject 
to  the  sway  of  chance,  caprice,  and  violence.  Universal  injustice, 
universal  lawlessness  is  reduced  to  a  system  of  dependence  on 
and  obligation  to  individuals,  so  that  the  mere  formal  side  of 
the  matter,  the  mere  fact  of  compact  constitutes  its  sole  con- 
nection with  the  principle  of  Right. — Since  every  man  had  to 
protect  himself,  the  martial  spirit,  which  in  point  of  external 
defence  seemed  to  have  most  ignominiously  vanished,  was  re- 
awakened ;  for  torpidity  was  roused  to  action  partly  by  extreme 
ill-usage,  partly  by  the  greed  and  ambition  of  individuals.  The 
valor  that  now  manifested  itself,  was  displayed  not  on  behalf 
of  the  State,  but  of  private  interests.  In  every  district  arose 
castles;    fortresses  were  erected,  and  that  for  the  defence  of 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  371 

private  property,  and  with  a  view  to  plunder  the  tyranny.  In 
the  way  just  mentioned,  the  political  totality  was  ignored  at 
those  points  where  individual  authority  was  established,  among 
which  the  seats  of  bishops  and  archbishops  deserve  especial 
mention.  The  bishoprics  had  been  freed  from  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  judicial  tribunals,  and  from  the  operations  of  the  execu- 
tive generally.  The  bishops  had  stewards  on  whom  at  their 
request  the  Emperors  conferred  the  jurisdiction  which  the 
Counts  had  formerly  exercised.  Thus  there  were  detached 
ecclesiastical  domains — ecclesiastical .  districts  which  belonged 
to  a  saint  (Germ.  Weichbilder).  Similar  suzerainties  of  a 
secular  kind  were  subsequently  constituted.  Both  occupied  the 
position  of  the  previous  Provinces  [Gaue]  or  Counties  [Graf- 
schaften].  Only  in  a  few  towns  where  communities  of  free- 
men were  independently  strong  enough  to  secure  protection  and 
safety,  did  relics  of  the  ancient  free  constitution  remain.  With 
these  exceptions  the  free  communities  entirely  disappeared,  and 
became  subject  to  the  prelates  or  to  the  Counts  and  Dukes, 
thenceforth  known  as  seigneurs  and  princes.  The  imperial 
power  was  extolled  in  general  terms,  as  something  very  great 
and  exalted :  the  Emperor  passed  for  the  secular  head  of  entire 
Christendom:  but  the  more  exalted  the  ideal  dignity  of  the 
emperors,  the  more  limited  was  it  in  reality.  France  derived 
extraordinary  advantage  from  the  fact  that  it  entirely  repudi- 
ated this  baseless  assumption,  while  in  Germany  the  advance  of 
political  development  was  hindered  by  that  pretence  of  power. 
The  kings  and  emperors  were  no  longer  chiefs  of  the  state,  but 
of  the  princes,  who  were  indeed  their  vassals,  but  possessed  sov- 
ereignty and  territorial  lordships  of  their  own.  The  whole 
social -condition  therefore,  being  founded  on  individual  sover- 
eignty, it  might  be  supposed  that  the  advance  to  a  State  would 
be  possible  only  through  the  return  of  those  individual  sover- 
eignties to  an  official  relationship.  But  to  accomplish  this,  a 
superior  power  would  have  been  required,  such  as  was  not  in 
existence;  for  the  feudal  lords  themselves  determined  how  far 
they  were  still  dependent  on  the  general  constitution  of  the 
state.  No  authority  of  Law  and  Right  is  valid  any  longer; 
nothing  but  chance  power — the  crude  caprice  of  particular  as 
opposed  to  universally  valid  Right ;  and  this  struggles  against 
equality  of  Rights  and  Laws.    Inequality  of  political  privileges 

— the  allotment  being  the  work  of  the  purest  haphazard— is 
Vol.  23  Q— Classics 


372  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

the  predominant  feature.  It  is  impossible  that  a  Monarchy  can 
arise  from  such  a  social  condition  through  the  subjugation  of 
the  several  minor  powers  under  the  Chief  of  the  State,  as  such. 
Reversely,  the  former  were  gradually  transformed  into  Prin- 
cipalities [Furstenthumer],  and  became  united  with  the  Prin- 
cipality of  the  Chief;  thus  enabling  the  authority  of  the  king 
and  of  the  state  to  assert  itself.  While,  therefore,  the  bond  of 
political  unity  was  still  wanting,  the  several  seigneuries  at- 
tained their  development  independently. 

In  France  the  dynasty  of  Charlemagne,  like  that  of  Clovis, 
became  extinct  through  the  weakness  of  the  sovereigns  who 
represented  it.  Their  dominion  was  finally  limited  to  the  petty 
sovereignty  of  Laon;  and  the  last  of  the  Carlovingians,  Duke 
Charles  of  Lorraine,  who  laid  claim  to  the  crown  after  the  death 
of  Louis  V,  was  defeated  and  taken  prisoner.  The  powerful 
Hugh  Capet,  Duke  of  France,  was  proclaimed  king.  The  title 
of  King,  however,  gave  him  no  real  power;  his  authority  was 
based  on  his  territorial  possessions  alone.  At  a  later  date, 
through  purchase,  marriage,  and  the  dying  out  of  families,  the 
kings  became  possessed  of  many  feudal  domains ;  and  their 
authority  was  frequently  invoked  as  a  protection  against  the 
oppressions  of  the  nobles.  The  royal  authority  in  France  be- 
came heritable  at  an  early  date,  because  the  fiefs  were  heritable ; 
though  at  first  the  kings  took  the  precaution  to  have  their  sons 
crowned  during  their  lifetime.  France  was  divided  into  many 
sovereignties :  the  Duchy  of  Guienne,  the  Earldom  of  Flanders, 
the  Duchy  of  Gascony,  the  Earldom  of  Toulouse,  the  Duchy  of 
Burgundy,  the  Earldom  of  Vermandois ;  Lorraine  too  had  be- 
longed to  France  for  some  time.  Normandy  had  been  ceded  to 
the  Normans  by  the  kings  of  France,  in  order  to  secure  a  tem- 
porary repose  from  their  incursions.  From  Normandy  Duke 
William  passed  over  into  England  and  conquered  it  in  the  year 
1066.  Here  he  introduced  a  fully  developed  feudal  constitu- 
tion— a  network  which,  to  a  great  extent,  encompasses  England 
even  at  the  present  day.  And  thus  the  Dukes  of  Normandy 
confronted  the  comparatively  feeble  Kings  of  France  with  a 
power  of  no  inconsiderable  pretensions. — Germany  was  com- 
posed of  the  great  duchies  of  Saxony,  Swabia,  Bavaria,  Carin- 
thia,  Lorraine  and  Burgundy,  the  Margraviate  of  Thuringia, 
etc.  with  several  bishoprics  and  archbishoprics.  Each  of  those 
duchies  again  was  divided  into  several  fiefs,  enjoying  more  or 


THE  GERMAN  WORLD 


373 


less  independence.  The  emperor  seems  often  to  have  united 
several  duchies  under  his  immediate  sovereignty.  The  Em- 
peror Henry  III  was,  when  he  ascended  the  throne,  lord  of 
many  large  dukedoms ;  but  he  weakened  his  own  power  by  en- 
feoffing them  to  others.  Germany  was  radically  a  free  nation, 
and  had  not,  as  France  had,  any  dominant  family  as  a  central 
authority ;  it  continued  an  elective  empire.  Its  princes  refused 
to  surrender  the  privilege  of  choosing  their  sovereign  for  them- 
selves ;  and  at  every  new  election  they  introduced  new  restric- 
tive conditions,  so  that  the  imperial  power  was  degraded  to  an 
empty  shadow. — In  Italy  we  find  the  same  political  condition. 
The  German  Emperors  had  pretensions  to  it:  but  their  au- 
thority was  valid  only  so  far  as  they  could  support  it  by  direct 
force  of  arms,  and  as  the  Italian  cities  and  nobles  deemed  their 
own  advantage  to  be  promoted  by  submission.  Italy  was,  like 
Germany,  divided  into  many  larger  and  smaller  dukedoms,  earl- 
doms, bishoprics  and  seigneuries.,  The  Pope  had  very  little 
power,  either  in  the  North  or  in  the  South ;  which  latter  was 
long  divided  between  the  Lombards  and  the  Greeks,  until  both 
were  overcome  by  the  Normans. — Spain  maintained  a  contest 
with  the  Saracens,  either  defensive  or  victorious,  through  the 
whole  mediaeval  period,  till  the  latter  finally  succumbed  to  the 
more  matured  power  of  Christian  civilization. 

Thus  all  Right  vanished  before  individual  Might ;  for  equal- 
ity of  Rights  and  rational  legislation,  where  the  interests  of  the 
political  Totality,  of  the  State,  are  kept  in  view,  had  no  ex- 
istence. 

The  Third  Reaction,  noticed  above,  was  that  of  the  ele- 
ment of  Universality  against  the  Real  World  as  split  up  into 
particularity.  This  reaction  proceeded  from  below  upwards — 
from  that  condition  of  isolated  possession  itself ;  and  was  then 
promoted  chiefly  by  the  church.  A  sense  of  the  nothingness  of 
its  condition  seized  on  the  world  as  it  were  universally.  In  that 
condition  of  utter  isolation,  where  only  the  unsanctioned  might 
of  individuals  had  any  validity  [where  the  State  was  non-ex- 
istent,] men  could  find  no  repose,  and  Christendom  was,  so  to 
speak,  agitated  by  the  tremor  of  an  evil  conscience.  In  the 
eleventh  century,  the  fear  of  the  approaching  final  judgment 
and  the  belief  in  the  speedy  dissolution  of  the  world,  spread 
through  all  Europe.  This  dismay  of  soul  impelled  men  to  the 
most  irrational  proceedings.    Some  bestowed  the  whole  of  their 


374  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

possessions  on  the  Church,  and  passed  their  lives  in  continual 
penance;  the  majority  dissipated  their  worldly  all  in  riotous 
debauchery.  The  Church  alone  increased  its  riches  by  the  hal- 
lucinations, through  donations  and  bequests. — About  the  same 
time  too,  terrible  famines  swept  away  their  victims:  human 
flesh  was  sold  in  open  market.  During  this  state  of  things, 
lawlessness,  brutal  lust,  the  most  barbarous  caprice,  deceit  and 
cunning,  were  the  prevailing  moral  features.  Italy,  the  centre 
of  Christendom,  presented  the  most  revolting  aspect  Every 
virtue  was  alien  to  the  times  in  question;  consequently  virtus 
had  lost  its  proper  meaning :  in  common  use  it  denoted  only  vio- 
lence and  oppression,  sometimes  even  libidinous  outrage.  This 
corrupt  state  of  things  affected  the  clergy  equally  with  the  laity. 
Their  own  advowees  had  made  themselves  masters  of  the  eccle- 
siastical estates  intrusted  to  their  keeping,  and  lived  on  them 
quite  at  their  own  pleasure,  restricting  the  monks  and  clergy 
to  a  scanty  pittance.  Monasteries  that  refused  to  accept  ad- 
vowees were  compelled  to  do  so ;  the  neighboring  lords  taking 
the  office  upon  themselves  or  giving  it  to  their  sons.  Only  bish- 
ops and  abbots  maintained  themselves  in  possession,  being  able 
to  protect  themselves  partly  by  their  own  power,  partly  by 
means  of  their  retainers ;  since  they  were,  for  the  most  part,  of 
noble  families. 

The  bishoprics  being  secular  fiefs,  their  occupants  were 
bound  to  the  performance  of  imperial  and  feudal  service.  The 
investiture  of  the  bishops  belonged  to  the  sovereigns,  and  it  was 
their  interest  that  these  ecclesiastics  should  be  attached  to  them. 
Whoever  desired  a  bishopric,  therefore,  had  to  make  application 
to  the  king ;  and  thus  a  regular  trade  was  carried  on  in  bishop- 
rics and  abbacies.  Usurers  who  had  lent  money  to  the  sov- 
ereign, received  compensation  by  the  bestowal  of  the  dignities 
in  question;  the  worst  of  men  thus  came  into  possession  of 
spiritual  offices.  There  could  be  no  question  that  the  clergy 
ought  to  have  been  chosen  by  the  religious  community,  and 
there  were  always  influential  persons  who  had  the  right  of 
electing  them;  but  the  king  compelled  them  to  yield  to  his 
orders.  Nor  did  the  Papal  dignity  fare  any  better.  Through  a 
long  course  of  years  the  Counts  of  Tusculum  near  Rome  con- 
ferred it  on  members  of  their  own  family,  or  on  persons  to 
whom  they  had  sold  it  for  large  sums  of  money.  The  state  of 
things  became  at  last  so  intolerable,  that  laymen  as  well  as  eccle- 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  375 

siastics  of  energetic  character  opposed  its  continuance.  The 
Emperor  Henry  III  put  an  end  to  the  strife  of  factions,  by 
nominating  the  Popes  himself,  and  supporting  them  by  his 
authority  in  defiance  of  the  opposition  of  the  Roman  nobility. 
Pope  Nicholas  II  decided  that  the  Popes  should  be  chosen  by 
the  Cardinals;  but  as  the  latter  partly  belonged  to  dominant 
families,  similar  contests  of  factions  continued  to  accompany 
their  election.  Gregory  VII  (already  famous  as  Cardinal  Hil- 
debrand)  sought  to  secure  the  independence  of  the  church  in 
this  frightful  condition  of  things,  by  two  measures  especially. 
First,  he  enforced  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy.  From  the  earliest 
times,  it  must  be  observed,  the  opinion  had  prevailed  that  it  was 
commendable  and  desirable  for  the  clergy  to  remain  unmarried. 
Yet  the  annalists  and  chroniclers  inform  us  that  this  require- 
ment was  but  indifferently  complied  with.  Nicholas  II  had  in- 
deed pronounced  the  married  clergy  to  be  a  new  sect;  but 
Gregory  VII  proceeded  to  enforce  the  restriction  with  extraor- 
dinary energy,  excommunicating  all  the  married  clergy  and  all 
laymen  who  should  hear  mass  when  they  officiated.  In  this 
way  the  ecclesiastical  body  was  shut  up  within  itself  and  ex- 
cluded from  the  morality  of  the  State. — His  second  measure 
was  directed  against  simony,  i.e.  the  sale  of  or  arbitrary  ap- 
pointment to  bishoprics  and  to  the  Papal  See  itself.  Ecclesias- 
tical offices  were  thenceforth  to  be  filled  by  the  clergy,  who  were 
capable  of  administering  them ;  an  arrangement  which  neces- 
sarily brought  the  ecclesiastical  body  into  violent  collision  with 
secular  seigneurs. 

These  were  the  two  grand  measures  by  which  Gregory  pur- 
posed to  emancipate  the  Church  from  its  condition  of  depen- 
dence and  exposure  to  secular  violence.  But  Gregory  made 
still  further  demands  on  the  secular  power.  The  transference 
of  benefices  to  a  new  incumbent  was  to  receive  validity  simply 
in  virtue  of  his  ordination  by  his  ecclesiastical  superior,  and 
the  Pope  was  to  have  exclusive  control  over  the  vast  property 
of  the  ecclesiastical  community.  The  Church  as  a  divinely  con- 
stituted power,  laid  claim  to  supremacy  over  secular  authority 
— founding  that  claim  on  the  abstract  principle  that  the  Divine 
is  superior  to  the  Secular.  The  Emperor  at  his  coronation — a 
ceremony  which  only  the  Pope  could  perform — was  obliged 
to  promise  upon  oath  that  he  would  always  be  obedient  to  the 
Pope  and  the  Church.     Whole  countries  and  states,  such  as 


376  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

Naples,  Portugal,  England  and  Ireland  came  into  a  formal  rela- 
tion of  vassalage  to  the  Papal  chair. 

Thus  the  Church  attained  an  independent  position:  the 
Bishops  convoked  synods  in  the  various  countries,  and  in  these 
convocations  the  clergy  found  a  permanent  centre  of  unity  and 
support.  In  this  way  the  Church  attained  the  most  influential 
position  in  secular  affairs.  It  arrogated  to  itself  the  award  of 
princely  crowns,  and  assumed  the  part  of  mediator  between 
sovereign  powers  in  war  and  peace.  The  contingencies  which 
particularly  favored  such  interventions  on  the  part  of  the 
Church  were  the  marriages  of  princes.  It  frequently  happened 
that  princes  wished  to  be  divorced  from  their  wives ;  but  for 
such  a  step  they  needed  the  permission  of  the  Church.  The 
latter  did  not  let  slip  the  opportunity  of  insisting  upon  the  ful- 
filment of  demands  that  might  have  been  otherwise  urged  in 
vain,  and  thence  advanced  till  it  had  obtained  universal  influ- 
ence. In  the  chaotic  state  of  the  community  generally,  the  inter- 
vention of  the  authority  of  the  Church  was  felt  as  a  necessity. 
By  the  introduction  of  the  "  Truce  of  God,"  feuds  and  private 
revenge  were  suspended  for  at  least  certain  days  in  the  week, 
or  even  for  entire  weeks ;  and  the  Church  maintained  this 
armistice  by  the  use  of  all  its  ghostly  appliances  of  excommu- 
nication, interdict  and  other  threats  and  penalties.  The  secular 
possessions  of  the  Church  brought  it  however  into  a  relation  to 
other  secular  princes  and  lords,  which  was  alien  to  its  proper 
nature;  it  constituted  a  formidable  secular  power  in  contra- 
position to  them,  and  thus  formed  in  the  first  instance  a  centre 
of  opposition  against  violence  and  arbitrary  wrong.  It  with- 
stood especially  the  attacks  upon  the  ecclesiastical  foundations 
— the  secular  lordships  of  the  Bishops ;  and  on  occasion  of 
opposition  on  the  part  of  vassals  to  the  violence  and  caprice  of 
princes,  the  former  had  the  support  of  the  Pope.  But  in  these 
proceedings  the  Church  brought  to  bear  against  opponents  only 
a  force  and  arbitrary  resolve  of  the  same  kind  as  their  own,  and 
mixed  up  its  secular  interest  with  its  interest  as  an  ecclesiastical, 
i.e.  a  divinely  substantial  power.  Sovereigns  and  peoples  were 
by  no  means  incapable  of  discriminating  between  the  two,  or  of 
recognizing  the  worldly  aims  that  were  apt  to  intrude  as  mo- 
tives for  ecclesiastical  intervention.  They  therefore  stood  by 
the  Church  as  far  as  they  deemed  it  their  interest  to  do  so; 
otherwise  they  showed  no  great  dread  of  excommunication  or 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD  377 

other  ghostly  terrors.  Italy  was  the  country  where  the  author- 
ity of  the  Popes  was  least  respected ;  and  the  worst  usage  they 
experienced  was  from  the  Romans  themselves.  Thus  what  the 
Popes  acquired  in  point  of  land  and  wealth  and  direct  sover- 
eignty, they  lost  in  influence  and  consideration. 

We  have  then  to  probe  to  its  depths  the  spiritual  element  in 
the  Church — the  form  of  its  power.  The  essence  of  the  Chris- 
tian principle  has  already  been  unfolded ;  it  is  the  principle  of 
Mediation.  Man  realizes  his  Spiritual  essence  only  when  he 
conquers  the  Natural  that  attaches  to  him.  This  conquest  is 
possible  only  on  the  supposition  that  the  human  and  the  divine 
nature  are  essentially  one,  and  that  Man,  so  far  as  he  is  Spirit, 
also  possesses  the  essentiality  and  substantiality  that  belong 
to  the  idea  of  Deity.  The  condition  of  the  mediation  in  question 
is  the  consciousness  of  this  unity;  and  the  intuition  of  this 
unity  was  given  to  man  in  Christ.  The  object  to  be  attained  is 
therefore,  that  man  should  lay  hold  on  this  consciousness,  and 
that  it  should  be  continually  excited  in  him.  This  was  the  de- 
sign of  the  Mass:  in  the  Host  Christ  is  set  forth  as  actually, 
present;  the  piece  of  bread  consecrated  by  the  priest  is  the 
present  God,  subjected  to  human  contemplation  and  ever  and 
anon  offered  up.  One  feature  of  this  representation  is  correct, 
inasmuch  as  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  is  here  regarded  as  an  actual 
and  eternal  transaction,  Christ  being  not  a  mere  sensuous  and 
single,  but  a  completely  universal,  i.e.  divine,  individuum;  but 
on  the  other  hand  it  involves  the  error  of  isolating  the  sensuous 
phase;  for  the  Host  is  adored  even  apart  from  its  being  par- 
taken of  by  the  faithful,  and  the  presence  of  Chrust  is  not  ex- 
clusively limited  mental  vision  and  Spirit.  Justly  therefore  did 
the  Lutheran  Reformation  make  this  dogma  an  especial  object  of 
attack.  Luther  proclaimed  the  great  doctrine  that  the  Host  had 
spiritual  value  and  Christ  was  received  only  on  the  condition 
of  faith  in  him ;  apart  from  this,  the  Host,  he  affirmed,  was  a 
mere  external  thing,  possessed  of  no  greater  value  than  any 
other  thing.  But  the  Catholic  falls  down  before  the  Host ;  and 
thus  the  merely  outward  has  sanctity  ascribed  to  it.  The  Holy 
as  a  mere  thing  has  the  character  of  externality ;  thus  it  is  ca- 
pable of  being  taken  possession  of  by  another  to  my  exclusion : 
it  may  come  into  an  alien  hand,  since  the  process  of  appropriat- 
ing it  is  not  one  that  takes  place  in  Spirit,  but  is  conditioned 
by  its  quality  as  an  external  object  [Dingheit].    The  highest 


378  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

of  human  blessings  is  in  the  hands  of  others.  Here  arises  ipso 
facto  a  separation  between  those  who  possess  this  blessing  and 
those  who  have  to  receive  it  from  others — between  the  Clergy 
and  the  Laity.  The  laity  as  such  are  alien  to  the  Divine.  This 
is  the  absolute  schism  in  which  the  Church  in  the  Middle  Ages 
was  involved :  it  arose  from  the  recognition  of  the  Holy  as 
something  external.  The  clergy  imposed  certain  conditions,  to 
which  the  laity  must  conform  if  they  would  be  partakers  of  the 
Holy.  The  entire  development  of  doctrine,  spiritual  insight 
and  the  knowledge  of  divine  things,  belonged  exclusively  to  the 
Church :  it  has  to  ordain,  and  the  laity  have  simply  to  believe : 
obedience  is  their  duty — the  obedience  of  faith,  without  insight 
on  their  part.  This  position  of  things  rendered  faith  a  matter  of 
external  legislation,  and  resulted  in  compulsion  and  the  stake. 

The  generality  of  men  are  thus  cut  off  from  the  Church ;  and 
on  the  same  principle  they  are  severed  from  the  Holy  in  every 
form.  For  on  the  same  principle  as  that  by  which  the  clergy 
are  the  medium  between  man  on  the  one  hand  and  God  and 
Christ  on  the  other  hand,  the  layman  cannot  directly  apply 
to  the  Divine  Being  in  his  prayers,  but  only  through  mediators 
— human  beings  who  conciliate  God  for  him,  the  Dead,  the  Per- 
fect— Saints.  Thus  originated  the  adoration  of  the  Saints,  and 
with  it  that  conglomerate  of  fables  and  falsities  with  which  the 
Saints  and  their  biographies  have  been  invested.  In  the  East 
the  worship  of  images  had  early  become  popular,  and  after  a 
lengthened  struggle  had  triumphantly  established  itself: — an 
image,  a  picture,  though  sensuous,  still  appeals  rather  to  the  im- 
agination;  but  the  coarser  natures  of  the  West  desired  something 
more  immediate  as  the  object  of  their  contemplation,  and  thus 
arose  the  worship  of  relics.  The  consequence  was  a  formal  resur- 
rection of  the  dead  in  the  mediaeval  period,  every  pious  Chris- 
tian wished  to  be  in  possession  of  such  sacred  earthly  remains. 
Among  the  Saints  the  chief  object  of  adoration  was  the  Virgin 
Mary.  She  is  certainly  the  beautiful  concept  of  pure  love — a 
mother's  love ;  but  Spirit  and  Thought  stand  higher  than  even 
this ;  and  in  the  worship  of  this  conception  that  of  God  in  Spirit 
was  lost,  and  Christ  himself  was  set  aside.  The  element  of 
mediation  between  God  and  man  was  thus  apprehended  and 
held  as  something  external.  Thus  through  the  perversion  of 
the  principle  of  Freedom,  absolute  Slavery  became  the  estab- 
lished law.    The  other  aspects  and  relations  of  the  spiritual  life 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD 


379 


of  Europe  during  this  period  flow  from  this  principle.  Knowl- 
edge, comprehension  of  religious  doctrine,  is  something  of 
which  Spirit  is  judged  incapable;  it  is  the  exclusive  possession 
of  a  class,  which  has  to  determine  the  True.  For  man  may  not 
presume  to  stand  in  a  direct  relation  to  God;  so  that,  as  we 
said  before,  if  he  would  apply  to  Him,  he  needs  a  mediator — a 
Saint.  This  view  imports  the  denial  of  the  essential  unity  of  the 
Divine  and  Human;  since  man,  as  such,  is  declared  incapable 
of  recognizing  the  Divine  and  of  approaching  thereto.  And 
while  humanity  is  thus  separated  from  the  Supreme  Good,  no 
change  of  heart,  as  such,  is  insisted  upon — for  this  would 
suppose  that  the  unity  of  the  Divine  and  the  Human  is  to  be 
found  in  man  himself — but  the  terrors  of  Hell  are  exhibited  to 
man  in  the  most  terrible  colors,  to  induce  him  to  escape  from 
them,  not  by  moral  amendment,  but  in  virtue  of  something  ex- 
ternal— the  "  means  of  grace."  These,  however,  are  an  ar- 
canum to  the  laity ;  another — the  "  Confessor,"  must  furnish 
him  with  them.  The  individual  has  to  confess — is  bound  to  ex- 
pose all  the  particulars  of  his  life  and  conduct  to  the  view  of 
the  Confessor — and  then  is  informed  what  course  he  has  to 
pursue  to  attain  spiritual  safety.  Thus  the  Church  took  the 
place  of  Conscience:  it  put  men  in  leading  strings  like  children, 
and  told  them  that  man  could  not  be  freed  from  the  torments 
which  his  sins  had  merited,  by  any  amendment  of  his  own  moral 
condition,  but  by  outward  actions,  opera  operata — actions 
which  were  not  the  promptings  of  his  own  good-will,  but  per- 
formed by  command  of  the  ministers  of  the  church ;  e.g.  hear- 
ing mass,  doing  penance,  going  through  a  certain  number  of 
prayers,  undertaking  pilgrimages — actions  which  are  unspirit- 
ual,  stupefy  the  soul,  and  which  are  not  only  mere  external  cere- 
monies, but  are  such  as  can  be  even  vicariously  performed, 
The  supererogatory  works  ascribed  to  the  saints,  could  be 
purchased,  and  the  spiritual  advantage  which  they  merited,  se- 
cured to  the  purchaser.  Thus  was  produced  an  utter  derange- 
ment of  all  that  is  recognized  as  good  and  moral  in  the  Chris- 
tian Church :  only  external  requirements  are  insisted  upon,  and 
these  can  be  complied  with  in  a  merely  external  way.  A  condi- 
tion the  very  reverse  of  Freedom  is  intruded  into  the  principle 
of  Freedom  itself. 

With  this  perversion  is  connected  the  absolute  separation  of 
the  spiritual  from  the  secular  principle  generally.    There  are 


38o  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

two  Divine  Kingdoms — the  intellectual  in  the  heart  and  cogni- 
tive faculty,  and  the  socially  ethical  whose  element  and  sphere  is 
secular  existence.  It  is  science  alone  that  can  comprehend  the 
kingdom  of  God  and  the  socially  Moral  world  as  one  Idea,  and 
that  recognizes  the  fact  that  the  course  of  Time  has  witnessed 
a  process  ever  tending  to  the  realization  of  this  unity.  But 
Piety  [or  Religious  Feeling]  as  such,  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  Secular:  it  may  make  its  appearance  in  that  sphere  on  a 
mission  of  mercy,  but  this  stops  short  of  a  strict  socially  ethical 
connection  with  it — does  not  come  up  to  the  idea  of  Freedom. 
Religious  Feeling  is  extraneous  to  History,  and  has  no  History ; 
for  History  is  rather  the  Empire  of  Spirit  recognizing  itself  in 
its  Subjective  Freedom,  as  the  economy  of  social  morality 
[sittliches  Reich]  in  the  State.  In  the  Middle  Ages  that  em- 
bodying of  the  Divine  in  actual  life  was  wanting;  the  antithesis 
was  not  harmonized.  Social  morality  was  represented  as 
worthless,  and  that  in  its  three  most  essential  particulars. 

One  phase  of  social  morality  is  that  connected  with  Love — 
with  the  emotions  called  forth  in  the  marriage  relation.  It  is 
not  proper  to  say  that  Celibacy  is  contrary  to  Nature,  but  that  it 
is  adverse  to  Social  Morality  [Sittlichkeit].  Marriage  was  in- 
deed reckoned  by  the  Church  among  the  Sacraments ;  but  not- 
withstanding the  position  thus  assigned  it,  it  was  degraded,  in- 
asmuch as  celibacy  was  reckoned  as  the  more  holy  state.  A 
second  point  of  social  morality  is  presented  in  Activity — the 
workman  has  to  perform  for  his  subsistence.  His  dignity  con- 
sists in  his  depending  entirely  on  his  diligence,  conduct,  and 
intelligence,  for  the  supply  of  his  wants.  In  direct  contraven- 
tion of  this  principle,  Pauperism,  laziness,  inactivity,  was  re- 
garded as  nobler :  and  the  Immoral  thus  received  the  stamp  of 
consecration.  A  third  point  of  morality  is,  that  obedience  be 
rendered  to  the  Moral  and  Rational,  as  an  obedience  to  laws 
which  I  recognize  as  just ;  that  it  be  not  that  blind  and  uncon- 
ditional compliance  which  does  not  know  what  it  is  doing,  and 
whose  course  of  action  is  a  mere  groping  about  without  clear 
consciousness  or  intelligence.  But  it  was  exactly  this  latter  kind 
of  obedience  that  passed  for  the  most  pleasing  to  God ;  a  doc- 
trine that  exalts  the  obedience  of  Slavery,  imposed  by  the  arbi- 
trary will  of  the  Church,  above  the  true  obedience  of  Freedom. 

In  this  way  the  three  tows  of  Chastity,  Poverty,  and  Obedi- 
ence turned  out  tin?  very  opposite  of  what  they  assumed  to  be, 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD  381 

and  in  them  all  social  morality  was  degraded.  The  Church 
was  no  longer  a  spiritual  power,  but  an  ecclesiastical  one ;  and 
the  relation  which  the  secular  world  sustained  to  it  was  unspirit- 
ual,  automatic,  and  destitute  of  independent  insight  and  con- 
viction. As  the  consequence  of  this,  we  see  everywhere  vice, 
utter  absence  of  respect  for  conscience,  shamelessness,  and  a 
distracted  state  of  things,  of  which  the  entire  history  of  the 
period  is  the  picture  in  detail. 

According  to  the  above,  the  Church  of  the  Middle  Ages 
exhibits  itself  as  a  manifold  S  elf -contradiction.  For  Subjec- 
tive Spirit,  although  testifying  of  the  Absolute,  is  at  the  same 
time  limited  and  definitely  existing  Spirit,  as  Intelligence  and 
Will.  Its  limitation  begins  in  its  taking  up  this  distinctive 
position,  and  here  consentaneously  begins  its  contradictory  and 
self-alienated  phase;  for  that  intelligence  and  will  are  not 
imbued  with  the  Truth,  which  appears  in  relation  to  them  as 
something  given  [posited  ab  extra].  This  externality  of  the 
Absolute  Object  of  comprehension  affects  the  consciousness 
thus: — that  the  Absolute  Object  presents  itself  as  a  merely 
sensuous,  external  thing — common  outward  existence — and  yet 
claims  to  be  Absolute:  in  the  mediaeval  view  of  things  this 
absolute  demand  is  made  upon  Spirit.  The  second  form  of  the 
contradiction  in  question  has  to  do  with  the  relation  which  the 
Church  itself  sustains.  The  true  Spirit  exists  in  man — is  his 
Spirit ;  and  the  individual  gives  himself  the  certainty  of  this 
identity  with  the  Absolute,  in  worship — the  Church  sustaining 
merely  the  relation  of  a  teacher  and  directress  of  this  worship. 
But  here,  on  the  contrary,  we  have  an  ecclesiastical  body,  like 
the  Brahmins  in  India,  in  possession  of  the  Truth — not  indeed 
by  birth,  but  in  virtue  of  knowledge,  teaching  and  training — 
yet  with  the  proviso  that  this  alone  is  not  sufficient,  an  external 
form,  an  unspiritual  title  being  judged  essential  to  actual  pos- 
session. This  outward  form  is  Ordination,  whose  nature  is 
such  that  the  consecration  imparted  inheres  essentially  like 
a  sensuous  quality  in  the  individual,  whatever  be  the  character 
of  his  soul — be  he  irreligious,  immoral,  or  absolutely  ignorant. 
The  third  "kind  of  contradiction  is  the  Church  itself,  in  its 
acquisition  as  an  outward  existence,  of  possessions  and  an  enor- 
mous property — a  state  of  things  which,  since  that  Church 
despises  or  professes  to  despise  riches,  is  none  other  than  a  Lie. 

And  we  found  the  State,  during  the  mediaeval  period,  simi- 


382  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

larly  involved  in  contradictions.  We  spoke  above  of  an  imperial 
rule,  recognized  as  standing  by  the  side  of  the  Church  and 
constituting  its  secular  arm.  But  the  power  thus  acknowledged 
is  invalidated  by  the  fact  that  the  imperial  dignity  in  question 
is  an  empty  title,  not  regarded  by  the  Emperor  himself  or  by 
those  who  wish  to  make  him  the  instrument  of  their  ambitious 
views,  as  conferring  solid  authority  on  its  possessor;  for  pas- 
sion and  physical  force  assume  an  independent  position,  and 
own  no  subjection  to  that  merely  abstract  conception.  But 
secondly,  the  bond  of  union  which  holds  the  Mediaeval  State 
together,  and  which  we  call  Fidelity,  is  left  to  the  arbitrary 
choice  of  men's  disposition  [Gemuth]  which  recognizes  no  ob- 
jective duties.  Consequently,  this  Fidelity  is  the  most  unfaith- 
ful thing  possible.  German  Honor  in  the  Middle  Ages  has 
become  a  proverb;  but  examined  more  closely  as  History  ex- 
hibits it  we  find  it  a  veritable  Punica  fides  or  Grceca  fides;  for 
the  princes  and  vassals  of  the  Emperor  are  true  and  honorable 
only  to  their  selfish  aims,  individual  advantage  and  passions, 
but  utterly  untrue  to  the  Empire  and  the  Emperor ;  because  in 
"  Fidelity  "  in  the  abstract,  their  subjective  caprice  receives  a 
sanction,  and  the  State  is  not  organized  as  a  moral  totality. 
A  third  contradiction  presents  itself  in  the  character  of  indi- 
viduals, exhibiting,  as  they  do  on  the  one  hand,  piety — religious 
devotion,  the  most  beautiful  in  outward  aspect,  and  springing 
from  the  very  depths  of  sincerity — and  on  the  other  hand  a 
barbarous  deficiency  in  point  of  intelligence  and  will.  We  find 
an  acquaintance  with  abstract  Truth,  and  yet  the  most  uncult- 
ured, the  rudest  ideas  of  the  Secular  and  the  Spiritual :  a  trucu- 
lent delirium  of  passion  and  yet  a  Christian  sanctity  which 
renounces  all  that  is  worldly,  and  devotes  itself  entirely  to  holi- 
ness. So  self-contradictory,  so  deceptive  is  this  mediaeval  pe- 
riod ;  and  the  polemical  zeal  with  which  its  excellence  is  con- 
tended for,  is  one  of  the  absurdities  of  our  times.  Primitive 
barbarism,  rudeness  of  manners,  and  childish  fancy  are  not 
revolting ;  they  simply  excite  our  pity.  But  the  highest  purity 
of  soul  defiled  by  the  most  horrible  barbarity;  the  Truth,  of 
which  a  knowledge  has  been  acquired,  degraded  t6  a  mere  tool 
by  falsehood  and  self-seeking;  that  which  is  most  irrational, 
coarse  and  vile,  established  and  strengthened  by  the  religious 
sentiment — this  is  the  most  disgusting  and  revolting  spectacle 
that  was  ever  witnessed,  and  which  only  Philosophy  can  com- 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  383 

prehend  and  so  justify.  For  such  an  antithesis  must  arise  in 
man's  consciousness  of  the  Holy  while  this  consciousness  still 
remains  primitive  and  immediate ;  and  the  profounder  the  truth 
to  which  Spirit  comes  into  an  implicit  relation — while  it  has  not 
yet  become  aware  of  its  own  presence  in  that  profound  truth — 
so  much  the  more  alien  is  it  to  itself  in  this  its  unknown  form : 
but  only  as  the  result  of  this  alienation  does  it  attain  its  true 
harmonization. 

We  have  then  contemplated  the  Church  as  the  reaction  of  the 
Spiritual  against  the  secular  life  of  the  time ;  but  this  reaction 
is  so  conditioned,  that  it  only  subjects  to  itself  that  against 
which  it  reacts — does  not  reform  it.  While  the  Spiritual,  re- 
pudiating its  proper  sphere  of  action,  has  been  acquiring  secular 
power,  a  secular  sovereignty  has  also  consolidated  itself  and 
attained  a  systematic  development — the  Feudal  System.  As 
through  their  isolation,  men  are  reduced  to  a  dependence  on 
their  individual  power  and  might,  every  point  in  the  world  on 
which  a  human  being  can  maintain  his  ground  becomes  an 
energetic  one.  While  the  Individual  still  remains  destitute  of 
the  defence  of  laws  and  is  protected  only  by  his  own  exertion, 
life,  activity  and  excitement  everywhere  manifest  themselves. 
As  men  are  certain  of  eternal  salvation  through  the  instrumen- 
tality of  the  Church,  and  to  this  end  are  bound  to  obey  it  only 
in,  its  spiritual  requirements,  their  ardor  in  the  pursuit  of 
worldly  enjoyment  increases,  on  the  other  hand,  in  inverse  pro- 
portion to  their  fear  of  its  producing  any  detriment  to  their 
spiritual  weal ;  for  the  Church  bestows  indulgences,  when  re- 
quired, for  oppressive,  violent  and  vicious  actions  of  all  kinds. 

The  period  from  the  eleventh  to  the  thirteenth  century  wit- 
nessed the  rise  of  an  impulse  which  developed  itself  in  various 
forms.  The  inhabitants  of  various  districts  began  to  build 
enormous  churches — Cathedrals,  erected  to  contain  the  whole 
community.  Architecture  is  always  the  first  art,  forming  the 
inorganic  phase,  the  domiciliation  of  the  divinity;  not  till  this 
is  accomplished  does  Art  attempt  to  exhibit  to  the  worshippers 
the  divinity  himself — the  Objective.  Maritime  commerce  was 
carried  on  with  vigor  by  the  cities  on  the  Italian,  Spanish,  and 
Flemish  coasts,  and  this  stimulated  the  productive  industry 
of  their  citizens  at  home.  The  Sciences  began  in  some  degree 
to  revive :  the  Scholastic  Philosophy  was  in  its  glory.  Schools 
for  the  study  of  law  were  founded  at  Bologna  and  other  places, 


384  PHILOSOPHY    OF    HISTORY 

as  also  for  that  of  medicine.  It  is  on  the  rise  and  growing  im- 
portance of  the  Towns,  that  all  these  creations  depend  as  their 
main  condition;  a  favorite  subject  of  historical  treatment  in 
modern  times.  And  the  rise  of  such  communities  was  greatly 
desiderated.  For  the  Towns,  like  the  Church,  present  them- 
selves as  reactions  against  feudal  violence — as  the  earliest  le- 
gally and  regularly  constituted  power.  Mention  has  already 
been  made  of  the  fact  that  the  possessors  of  power  compelled 
others  to  put  themselves  under  their  protection.  Such  centres 
of  safety  were  castles  [Burgen],  churches  and  monasteries, 
round  which  were  collected  those  who  needed  protection.  These 
now  became  burghers  [Burger],  and  entered  into  a  cliental 
relation  to  the  lords  of  such  castles  or  to  monastic  bodies.  Thus 
a  firmly  established  community  was  formed  in  many  places. 
Many  cities  and  fortified  places  [Castelle]  still  existed  in  Italy, 
in  the  South  of  France,  and  in  Germany  on  the  Rhine,  which 
dated  their  existence  from  the  ancient  Roman  times,  and  which 
originally  possessed  municipal  rights,  but  subsequently  lost 
them  under  the  rule  of  feudal  governors  [Vogte].  The  citi- 
zens, like  their  rural  neighbors,  had  been  reduced  to  vassalage. 

The  principle  of  free  possession  however  began  to  develop 
itself  from  the  protective  relation  of  feudal  protection; 
i.e.  freedom  originated  in  its  direct  contrary.  The  feudal  lords 
or  great  barons  enjoyed,  properly  speaking,  no  free  or  absolute 
possession,  any  more  than  their  dependents  ;  they  had  unlimited 
power  over  the  latter,  but  at  the  same  time  they  also  were 
vassals  of  princes  higher  and  mightier  than  themselves,  and 
to  whom  they  were  under  engagements — which,  it  must  be 
confessed,  they  did  not  fulfil  except  under  compulsion.  The 
ancient  Germans  had  known  of  none  other  than  free  possession ; 
but  this  principle  had  been  perverted  into  its  complete  opposite, 
and  now  for  the  first  time  we  behold  the  few  feeble  commence- 
ments of  a  reviving  sense  of  freedom.  Individuals  brought 
into  closer  relation  by  the  soil  which  they  cultivated,  formed 
among  themselves  a  kind  of  union,  confederation,  or  conjuratio. 
They  agreed  to  be  and  to  perform  on  their  own  behalf  that 
which  they  had  previously  been  and  performed  in  the  service 
of  their  feudal  lord  alone.  Their  first  united  undertaking  was 
the  erection  of  a  tower  in  which  a  bell  was  suspended :  the 
ringing  of  the  bell  was  a  signal  for  a  general  rendezvous,  and 
the  object  of  the  union  thus  appointed  was  the  formation  of  a 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  385 

kind  of  militia.  This  is  followed  by  the  institution  of  a  munici- 
pal government,  consisting  of  magistrates,  jurors,  consuls,  and 
the  establishment  of  a  common  treasury,  the  imposition  of  taxesf 
tolls,  etc.  Trenches  are  dug  and  walls  built  for  the  common 
defence,  and  the  citizens  are  forbidden  to  erect  fortresses  for 
themselves  individually.  In  such  a  community,  handicrafts,  as 
distinguished  from  agriculture,  find  their  proper  home.  Artisans 
necessarily  soon  attained  a  superior  position  to  that  of  the  tillers 
of  the  ground,  for  the  latter  were  forcibly  driven  to  work ;  the 
former  displayed  activity  really  their  own,  and  a  corresponding 
diligence  and  interest  in  the  result  of  their  labors.  Formerly  arti- 
sans had  been  obliged  to  get  permission  from  their  liege  lords 
to  sell  their  work,  and  thus  earn  something  for  themselves : 
they  were  obliged  to  pay  them  a  certain  sum  for  this  privilege 
of  market,  besides  contributing  a  portion  of  their  gains  to  the 
baronial  exchequer.  Those  who  had  houses  of  their  own  were 
obliged  to  pay  a  considerable  quit-rent  for  them;  on  all  that 
was  imported  and  exported,  the  nobility  imposed  large  tolls,  and 
for  the  security  afforded  to  travellers  they  exacted  safe-conduct 
money.  When  at  a  later  date  these  communities  became 
stronger,  all  such  feudal  rights  were  purchased  from  the  nobles, 
or  the  cession  of  them  compulsorily  extorted :  by  degrees  the 
towns  secured  an  independent  jurisdiction  and  likewise  freed 
themselves  from  all  taxes,  tolls  and  rents.  The  burden  which 
continued  the  longest  was  the  obligation  the  towns  were  under 
to  make  provision  for  the  Emperor  and  his  whole  retinue  during 
his  stay  within  their  precincts,  as  also  for  seigneurs  of  inferior 
rank  under  the  same  circumstances.  The  trading  class  subse- 
quently divided  itself  into  guilds,  to  each  of  which  were  at- 
tached particular  rights  and  obligations.  The  factions  to  which 
episcopal  elections  and  other  contingencies  gave  rise,  very  often 
promoted  the  attainment  by  the  towns  of  the  rights  above-men- 
tioned. As  it  would  not  infrequently  happen  that  two  rival 
bishops  were  elected  to  the  same  see,  each  one  sought  to  draw 
the  citizens  into  his  own  interest,  by  granting  them  privileges 
and  freeing  them  from  burdens.  Subsequently  arose  many 
feuds  with  the  clergy,  the  bishops  and  abbots.  In  some  towns 
they  maintained  their  position  as  lords  of  the  municipality; 
in  others  the  citizens  got  the  upper  hand,  and  obtained  their 
freedom.  Thrfe,  e.g.  Cologne  threw  off  the  yoke  of  its  bishop ; 
Mayence  on  the  other  hand  remained  subject.     By  degrees 


386  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

cities  grew  to  be  independent  republics:  first  and  foremost  in 
Italy,  then  in  the  Netherlands,  Germany,  and  France.  They 
soon  come  to  occupy  a  peculiar  position  with  respect  to  the 
nobility.  The  latter  united  itself  with  the  corporations  of  the 
towns,  and  constituted  as  e.g.  in  Berne,  a  particular  guild.  It 
soon  assumed  special  powers  in  the  corporations  of  the  towns 
and  attained  a  dominant  position ;  but  the  citizens  resisted 
the  usurpation  and  secured  the  government  to  themselves.  The 
rich  citizens  (populus  crassus)  now  excluded  the  nobility  from 
power.  But  in  the  same  way  as  the  party  of  the  nobility  was 
divided  into  factions — especially  those  of  Ghibellines  and 
Guelfs,  of  which  the  former  favored  the  Emperor,  the  latter  the 
Pope — that  of  the  citizens  also  was  rent  in  sunder  by  intestine 
strife.  The  victorious  faction  was  accustomed  to  exclude  its 
vanquished  opponents  from  power.  The  patrician  nobility 
which  supplanted  the  feudal  aristocracy,  deprived  the  common 
people  of  all  share  in  the  conduct  of  the  state,  and  thus  proved 
itself  no  less  oppressive  than  the  original  noblesse.  The  history 
of  the  cities  presents  us  with  a  continual  change  of  constitutions, 
according  as  one  party  among  the  citizens  or  the  other — this 
faction  or  that,  got  the  upper  hand.  Originally  a  select  body 
of  citizens  chose  the  magistrates ;  but  as  in  such  elections  the 
victorious  faction  always  had  the  greatest  influence,  no  other 
means  of  securing  impartial  functionaries  was  left,  but  the 
election  of  foreigners  to  the  office  of  judge  and  podesta.  It  also 
frequently  happened  that  the  cities  chose  foreign  princes  as 
supreme  seigneurs,  and  intrusted  them  with  the  signoria.  But 
all  of  these  arrangements  were  only  of  short  continuance ;  the 
princes  soon  misused  their  sovereignty  to  promote  their  own 
ambitious  designs  and  to  gratify  their  passions,  and  in  a  few 
years  were  once  more  deprived  of  their  supremacy. — Thus  the 
history  of  these  cities  presents  on  the  one  hand,  in  individual 
characters  marked  by  the  most  terrible  or  the  most  admirable 
features,  an  astonishingly  interesting  picture ;  on  the  other 
hand  it  repels  us  by  assuming,  as  it  unavoidably  does,  the  aspect 
of  mere  chronicles.  In  contemplating  the  restless  and  ever- 
varying  impulses  that  agitate  the  very  heart  of  these  cities  and 
the  continual  struggles  of  factions,  we  are  astonished  to  see 
on  the  other  side  industry — commerce  by  land  and  sea — in  the 
highest  degree  prosperous.  It  is  the  same  principle  of  lively 
vigor,  which,  nourished  by  the  internal  excitement  in  question, 
produces  this  phenomenon. 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  387 

We  have  contemplated  the  Church,  which  extended  its  power 
over  all  the  sovereignties  of  the  time,  and  the  Cities,  where 
a  social  organization  on  a  basis  of  Right  was  first  resuscitated, 
as  powers  reacting  against  the  authority  of  princes  and  feudal 
lords.  Against  these  two  rising  powers,  there  followed  a  reac- 
tionary movement  of  princely  authority ;  the  Emperor  now 
enters  on  a  struggle  with  the  Pope  and  the  cities.  The  Em- 
peror is  recognized  as  the  apex  of  Christian,  i.e.  secular  power, 
the  Pope  on  the  other  hand  as  that  of  Ecclesiastical  power, 
which  had  now  however  become  as  decidedly  a  secular  domin- 
ion. In  theory,  it  was  not  disputed  that  the  Roman  Emperor 
was  the  Head  of  Christendom — that  he  possessed  the  dominium 
mundi — that  since  all  Christian  states  belonged  to  the  Roman 
Empire,  their  princes  owed  him  allegiance  in  all  reasonable  and 
equitable  requirements.  However  satisfied  the  emperors  them- 
selves might  be  of  the  validity  of  this  claim,  they  had  too  much 
good  sense  to  attempt  seriously  to  enforce  it"  but  the  empty 
title  of  Roman  Emperor  was  a  sufficient  inducement  to  them 
to  exert  themselves  to  the  utmost  to  acquire  and  maintain  it 
in  Italy.  The  Othos  especially  cherished  the  idea  of  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  old  Roman  empire,  and  were  ever  and  anon 
summoning  the  German  princes  to  join  them  in  an  expedition 
to  Rome  with  a  view  to  coronation  there; — an  undertaking  in 
which  they  were  often  deserted  by  them  and  had  to  undergo 
the  shame  of  a  retreat."  Equal  disappointment  was  experienced 
by  those  Italians  who  hoped  for  deliverance  at  the  hands  of  the 
Emperor  from  the  ochlocracy  that  domineered  over  the  cities, 
or  from  the  violence  of  the  feudal  nobility  in  the  country  at 
large.  The  Italian  princes  who  had  invoked  the  presence  of 
the  Emperor  and  had  promised  him  aid  in  asserting  his  claims, 
drew  back  and  left  him  in  the  lurch ;  and  those  who  had  pre- 
viously expected  salvation  for  their  country,  then  broke  out 
into  bitter  complaints  that  their  beautiful  country  was  devas- 
tated by  barbarians,  their  superior  civilization  trodden  under 
foot,  and  that  right  and  liberty,  deserted  by  the  Emperor,  must 
also  perish.  Especially  touching  and  deep  are  the  lamentations 
and  reproaches  which  Dante  addresses  to  the  Emperors. 

The  second  complication  with  Italy  was  that  struggle  which 
contemporaneously  with  the  former  was  sustained  chiefly  by 
the  great  Swabians — the  house  of  Hohenstaufen — and  whose 
object  was  to  bring  back  the  secular  power  of  the  Church,  which 


388  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

had  become  independent,  to  its  original  dependence  on  the  state. 
The  Papal  See  was  also  a  secular  power  and  sovereignty,  and 
the  Emperor  asserted  the  superior  prerogative  of  choosing  the 
Pope  and  investing. him  with  his  secular  sovereignty.  It  was 
these  rights  of  the  State  for  which  the  Emperors  contended. 
But  to  that  secular  power  which  they  withstood,  they  were  at 
the  same  time  subject,  in  virtue  of  its  spiritual  pretensions: 
thus  the  contest  was  an  interminable  contradiction.  Contra- 
dictory as  the  varying  phases  of  the  contest,  in  which  recon- 
ciliation was  ever  alternating  with  renewed  hostilities,  was  also 
the  instrumentality  employed  in  the  struggle.  For  the  power 
with  which  the  Emperors  made  head  against  their  enemy — the 
princes,  their  servants  and  subjects,  were  divided  in  their  own 
minds,  inasmuch  as  they  were  bound  by  the  strongest  ties  of 
allegiance  to  the  Emperor  and  to  his  enemy  at  one  and  the 
same  time.  The  chief  interest  of  the  princes  lay  in  that  very 
assumption  of  independence  in  reference  to  the  State,  against 
which  on  the  part  of  the  Papal  See  the  Emperor  was  contend- 
ing ;  so  that  they  were  willing  to  stand  by  the  Emperor  in  cases 
where  the  empty  dignity  of  the  imperial  crown  was  impugned, 
or  on  some  particular  occasions — e.g.  in  a  contest  with  the 
cities — but  abandoned  him  when  he  aimed  at  seriously  assert- 
ing his  authority  against  the  secular  power  of  the  clergy,  or 
against  other  princes. 

As,  on  the  one  hand,  the  German  emperors  sought  to  realize 
their  title  in  Italy,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  Italy  had  its  political 
centre  in  Germany.  The  interests  of  the  two  countries  were 
thus  linked  together,  and  neither  could  gain  political  consolida- 
tion within  itself.  In  the  brilliant  period  of  the  Hohenstaufen 
dynasty,  individuals  of  commanding  character  sustained  the  dig- 
nity of  the  throne;  sovereigns  like  Frederick  Barbarossa,  in 
whom  the  imperial  power  manifested  itself  in  its  greatest  majes- 
ty, and  who  by  his  personal  qualities  succeeded  in  attaching  the 
subject  princes  to  his  interests.  Yet  brilliant  as  the  history  of  the 
Hohenstaufen  dynasty  may  appear,  and  stirring  as  might  have 
been  the  contest  with  the  Church,  the  former  presents  on  the 
whole  nothing  more  than  the  tragedy  of  this  house  itself,  and 
the  latter  had  no  important  result  in  the  sphere  of  Spirit.  The 
cities  were  indeed  compelled  to  acknowledge  the  imperial  au- 
thority, and  their  deputies  swore  to  observe  the  decisions  of 
the  Roncalian  Diet ;   but  they  kept  their  word  no  longer  than 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  389 

they  were  compelled  to  do  so.  Their  sense  of  obligation  de- 
pended exclusively  on  the  direct  consciousness  of  a  superior 
power  ready  to  enforce  it.  It  is  said  that  when  the  Emperor 
Frederick  I  asked  the  deputies  of  the  cities  whether  they  had 
not  sworn  to  the  conditions  of  peace,  they  answered :  "  Yes, 
but  not  that  we  would  observe  them."  The  result  was  that 
Frederick  Tat  the  Peace  of  Constance  (1183)  was  obliged  to 
concede  to  them  a  virtual  independence ;  although  he  appended 
the  stipulation,  that  in  this  concession  their  feudal  obligations 
to  the  German  Empire  were  understood  to  be  reserved.  The 
contest  between  the  Emperors  and  the  Popes  regarding  investi- 
tures was  settled  at  the  close  of  1122  by  Henry  V  and  Pope 
Calixtus  II  on  these  terms:  the  Emperor  was  to  invest  with 
the  sceptre;  the  Pope  with  the  ring  and  crosier;  the  chapter 
were  to  elect  the  Bishops  in  the  presence  of  the  Emperor  or  of 
imperial  commissioners ;  then  the  Emperor  was  to  invest  the 
Bishop  as  a  secular  feudatory  with  the  temporalia,  while  the 
ecclesiastical  investiture  was  reserved  for  the  Pope.  Thus  the 
protracted  contest  between  the  secular  and  spiritual  powers  was 
at  length  set  at  rest. 

Chapter  II. — The  Crusades 

The  Church  gained  the  victory  in  the  struggle  referred  to  in 
the  previous  chapter;  and  in  this  way  secured  as  decided  a 
supremacy  in  Germany,  as  she  did  in  the  other  states  of  Europe 
by  a  calmer  process.  She  made  herself  mistress  of  all  the  rela- 
tions of  life,  and  of  science  and  art ;  and  she  was  the  permanent 
repository  of  spiritual  treasures.  Yet  notwithstanding  this  full 
and  complete  development  of  ecclesiastical  life,  we  find  a  defi- 
ciency and  consequent  craving  manifesting  itself  in  Christen- 
dom, and  which  drove  it  out  of  itself.  To  understand  this  want, 
we  must  revert  to  the  nature  of  the  Christian  religion  itself, 
and  particularly  to  that  aspect  of  it  by  which  it  has  a  footing 
in  the  Present  in  the  consciousness  of  its  votaries. 

The  objective  doctrines  of  Christianity  had  been  already  so 
firmly  settled  by  the  Councils  of  the  Church,  that  neither  the 
mediaeval  nor  any  other  philosophy  could  develop  them  further, 
except  in  the  way  of  exalting  them  intellectually,  so  that  they 
might  be  satisfactory  as  presenting  the  form  of  Thought.  And 
one  essential  point  in  this  doctrine  was  the  recognition  of  the 
Divine  Nature  as  not  in  any  sense  an  other-zvorld  existence  [ein 


390  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

Jenseits],  but  as  in  unity  with  Human  Nature  in  the  Present 
and  Actual.  But  this  Presence  is  at  the  same  time  exclusively 
Spiritual  Presence.  Christ  as  a  particular  human  personality 
has  left  the  world ;  his  temporal  existence  is  only  a  past  one — 
i.e.,  it  exists  only  in  mental  conception.  And  since  the  Divine 
existence  on  earth  is  essentially  of  a  spiritual  character,  it  can- 
not appear  in  the  form  of  a  Dalai-Lama.  The  Pope,  however 
high  his  position  as  Head  of  Christendom  and  Vicar  of  Christ, 
calls  himself  only  the  Servant  of  Servants.  How  then  did  the 
Church  realize  Christ  as  a  definite  and  present  existence ?  The 
principal  form  of  this  realization  was,  as  remarked  above,  the 
Holy  Supper,  in  the  form  it  presented  as  the  Mass :  in  this  the 
Life,  Suffering,  and  Death  of  the  actual  Christ  were  verily  pres- 
ent, as  an  eternal  and  daily  repeated  sacrifice.  Christ  appears 
as  a  definite  and  present  existence  in  a  sensuous  form  as  the 
Host,  consecrated  by  the  Priest ;  so  far  all  is  satisfactory :  that 
is  to  say,  it  is  the  Church,  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  that  attains  in 
this  ordinance  direct  and  full  assurance.  But  the  most  promi- 
nent feature  in  this  sacrament  is,  that  the  process  by  which 
Deity  is  manifested,  is  conditioned  by  the  limitations  of  partic- 
ularity— that  the  Host,  this  Thing,  is  set  up  to  be  adored  as 
God.  The  Church  then  might  have  been  able  to  content  itself 
with  this  sensuous  presence  of  Deity;  but  when  it  is  once 
granted  that  God  exists  in  external  phenomenal  presence,  this 
external  manifestation  immediately  becomes  infinitely  varied ; 
for  the  need  of  this  presence  is  infinite.  Thus  innumerable 
instances  will  occur  in  the  experience  of  the  Church,  in  which 
Christ  has  appeared  to  one  and  another,  in  various  places ;  and 
still  more  frequently  his  divine  Mother,  who  as  standing  nearer 
to  humanity,  is  a  second  mediator  between  the  Mediator  and 
man  (the  miracle-working  images  of  the  Virgin  are  in  their 
way  Hosts,  since  they  supply  a  benign  and  gracious  presence 
of  God).  In  all  places,  therefore,  there  will  occur  manifesta- 
tions of  the  Heavenly,  in  specially  gracious  appearances,  the 
stigmata  of  Christ's  Passion,  etc. ;  and  the  Divine  will  be  real- 
ized in  miracles  as  detached  and  isolated  phenomena.  In  the 
period  in  question  the  Church  presents  the  aspect  of  a  world 
of  miracle ;  to  the  community  of  devout  and  pious  persons 
natural  existence  has  utterly  lost  its  stability  and  certainty: 
rather,  absolute  certainty  has  turned  against  it,  and  the  Divine 
is  not  conceived  of  by  Christendom  under  conditions  of  univer- 


THE   GERMAN    WORLD  391 

sality  as  the  law  and  nature  of  Spirit,  but  reveals  itself  in  iso- 
lated and  detached  phenomena,  in  which  the  rational  form  of 
existence  is  utterly  perverted. 

In  this  complete  development  of  the  Church,  we  may  find 
a  deficiency:  but  what  can  be  felt  as  a  want  by  it?  What 
compels  it,  in  this  state  of  perfect  satisfaction  and  enjoyment, 
to  wish  for  something  else  within  the  limits  of  its  own  prin- 
ciples— without  apostatizing  from  itself?  Those  miraculous 
images,  places,  and  times,  are  only  isolated  points,  momentary 
appearances — are  not  an  embodiment  of  Deity,  not  of  the  high- 
est and  absolute  kind.  The  Host,  the  supreme  manifestation, 
is  to  be  found  indeed  in  innumerable  churches ;  Christ  is  therein 
transubstantiated  to  a  present  and  particular  existence:  but 
this  itself  is  of  a  vague  and  general  character ;  it  is  not  his  actual 
and  very  presence  as  particularized  in  Space.  That  presence 
has  passed  away,  as  regards  time;  but  as  spatial  and  as  con- 
crete in  space  it  has  a  mundane  permanence  in  this  particular 
spot,  this  particular  village,  etc.  It  is  then  this  mundane  ex- 
istence [in  Palestine]  which  Christendom  desiderates,  which 
it  is  resolved  on  attaining.  Pilgrims  in  crowds  had  indeed  been 
able  to  enjoy  it;  but  the  approach  to  the  hallowed  localities 
is  in  the  hands  of  the  Infidels,  and  it  is  a  reproach  to  Christen- 
dom that  the  Holy  Places  and  the  Sepulchre  of  Christ  in  par- 
ticular are  not  in  possession  of  the  Church.  In  this  feeling 
Christendom  was  united ;  consequently  the  Crusades  were  un- 
dertaken, whose  object  was  not  the  furtherance  of  any  special 
interests  on  the  part  of  the  several  states  that  engaged  in  them, 
but  simply  and  solely  the  conquest  of  the  Holy  Land. 

The  West  once  more  sallied  forth  in  hostile  array  against 
the  East.  As  in  the  expedition  of  the  Greeks  against  Troy,  so 
here  the  invading  hosts  were  entirely  composed  of  independent 
feudal  lords  and  knights ;  though  they  were  not  united  under 
a  real  individuality,  as  were  the  Greeks  under  Agamemnon  or 
Alexander.  Christendom,  on  the  contrary,  was  engaged  in  an 
undertaking  whose  object  was  the  securing  of  the  definite  and 
present  existence  [of  Deity] — the  real  culmination  of  Individ- 
uality. This  object  impelled  the  West  against  the  East,  and 
this  is  the  essential  interest  of  the  Crusades. 

The  first  and  immediate  commencement  of  the  Crusades 
was  made  in  the  West  itself.  Many  thousands  of  Jews  were 
massacred,  and  their  property  seized;    and  after  this  terrible 


392  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

prelude  Christendom  began  its  march.  The  monk,  Peter  the 
Hermit  of  Amiens,  led  the  way  with  an  immense  troop  of  rab- 
ble. This  host  passed  in  the  greatest  disorder  through  Hun- 
gary, and  robbed  and  plundered  as  they  went;  but  their  num- 
bers dwindled  away,  and  only  a  few  reached  Constantinople. 
For  rational  considerations  were  out  of  the  question ;  the  mass 
of  them  believed  that  God  would  be  their  immediate  guide  and 
protector.  The  most  striking  proof  that  enthusiasm  almost 
robbed  the  nations  of  Europe  of  their  senses,  is  supplied  by 
the  fact  that  at  a  later  time  troops  of  children  rah  away  from 
their  parents,  and  went  to  Marseilles,  there  to  take  ship  for 
the  Holy  Land.  Few  reached  it;  the  rest  were  sold  by  the 
merchants  to  the  Saracens  as  slaves. 

At  last,  with  much  trouble  and  immense  loss,  more  regular 
armies  attained  the  desired  object;  they  beheld  themselves 
in  possession  of  all  the  Holy  Places  of  note — Bethlehem,  Geth- 
semane,  Golgotha,  and  even  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  In  the  whole 
expedition — in  all  the  acts  of  the  Christians — appeared  that 
enormous  contrast  (a  feature  characteristic  of  the  age) — the 
transition  on  the  part  of  the  Crusading  host  from  the  greatest 
excesses  and  outrages  to  the  profoundest  contrition  and  hu- 
miliation. Still  dripping  with  the  blood  of  the  slaughtered  in- 
habitants of  Jerusalem,  the  Christians  fell  down  on  their  faces 
at  the  tomb  of  the  Redeemer,  and  directed  their  fervent  suppli- 
cations to  him. 

Thus  did  Christendom  come  into  the  possession  of  its  highest 
good.  Jerusalem  was  made  a  kingdom,  and  the  entire  feudal 
system  was  introduced  there — a  constitution  which,  in  presence 
of  the  Saracens,  was  certainly  the  worst  that  could  be  adopted. 
Another  crusade  in  the  year  1204  resulted  in  the  conquest  of 
Constantinople  and  the  establishment  of  a  Latin  Empire  there. 
Christendom,  therefore,  had  appeased  its  religious  craving;  it 
could  now  veritably  walk  unobstructed  in  the  footsteps  of  the 
Saviour.  Whole  shiploads  of  earth  were  brought  from  the 
Holy  Land  to  Europe.  Of  Christ  himself  no  corporeal  relics 
could  be  obtained,  for  he  was  arisen:  the  Sacred  Handkerchief, 
the  Cross,  and  lastly  the  Sepulchre,  were  the  most  venerated 
memorials.  But  in  the  Grave  is  found  the  real  point  of  retro- 
version; it  is  in  the  grave  that  all  the  vanity  of  the  Sensuous 
perishes.  At  the  Holy  Sepulchre  the  vanity  of  [the  cherished] 
opinion  passes  away  [the  fancies    by  which  the  substance  of 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  393 

truth  has  been  obscured  disappear]  ;  there  all  is  seriousness. 
In  the  negation  of  that  definite  and  present  embodiment — i.e. 
of  the  Sensuous — it  is  that  the  turning-point  in  question  is 
found,  and  those  words  have  an  application :  "  Thou  wouldst 
not  suffer  thy  Holy  One  to  see  corruption."  Christendom  was 
not  to  find  its  ultimatum  of  truth  in  the  grave.  At  this  sepul- 
chre the  Christian  world  received  a  second  time  the  response 
given  to  the  disciples  when  they  sought  the  body  of  the  Lord 
there:  "  Why  seek  ye  the  living  among  the  dead?  He  is  not 
here,  but  is  risen."  You  must  not  look  for  the  principle  of  your 
religion  in  the  Sensuous,  in  the  grave  among  the  dead,  but  in 
the  living  Spirit  in  yourselves.  We  have  seen  how  the  vast 
idea  of  the  union  of  the  Finite  with  the  Infinite  was  perverted 
to  such  a  degree  as  that  men  looked  for  a  definite  embodiment 
of  the  Infinite  in  a  mere  isolated  outward  object  [the  Host]. 
Christendom  found  the  empty  Sepulchre,  but  not  the  union  of 
the  Secular  and  the  Eternal ;  and  so  it  lost  the  Holy  Land.  It 
was  practically  undeceived ;  and  the  result  which  it  brought 
back  with  it  was  of  a  negative  kind :  viz.,  that  the  definite  em- 
bodiment which  it  was  seeking,  was  to  be  looked  for  in  Subjec- 
tive Consciousness  alone,  and  in  no  external  object;  that  the 
definite  form  in  question,  presenting  the  union  of  the  Secular 
with  the  Eternal,  is  the  Spiritual  self-cognizant  independence 
of  the  individual.  Thus  the  world  attains  the  conviction  that 
man  must  look  within  himself  for  that  definite  embodiment  of 
being  which  is  of  a  divine  nature :  subjectivity  thereby  receives 
absolute  authorization,  and  claims  to  determine  for  itself  the 
relation  [of  all  that  exists]  to  the  Divine.*  This  then  was  the 
absolute  result  of  the  Crusades,  and  from  them  we  may  date 
the  commencement  of  self-reliance  and  spontaneous  activity. 
The  West  bade  an  eternal  farewell  to  the  East  at  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  and  gained  a  comprehension  of  its  own  principle 
of  subjective  infinite  Freedom.  Christendom  never  appeared 
again  on  the  scene  of  history  as  one  body. 

Crusades  of  another  kind,  bearing  somewhat  the  character 
of  wars  with  a  view  to  mere  secular  conquest,  but  which  in- 
volved a  religious  interest  also,  were  the  contests  waged  by 
Spain  against  the  Saracens  in  the  peninsula  itself.  The  Chris- 
tians had  been  shut  up  in  a  corner  by  the  Arabs;    but  they 

*  All  human  actions,  projects,  insti-  jectivity — for  absolute  decision  on  their 
tutions,  etc.,  begin  to  be  brought  to  the  merits,  instead  of  being  referred  to  an 
bar  of  "  principle  " — the  sanctum  of  sub-        extraneous  authority. 


S94 


PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 


gained  upon  their  adversaries  in  strength,  because  the  Saracens 
in  Spain  and  Africa  were  engaged  in  war  in  various  directions, 
and  were  divided  among  themselves.  The  Spaniards,  united 
with  Frank  knights,  undertook  frequent  expeditions  against 
the  Saracens ;  and  in  this  collision  of  the  Christians  with  the 
chivalry  of  the  East — with  its  freedom  and  perfect  indepen- 
dence of  soul — the  former  became  also  partakers  in  this  free- 
dom. Spain  gives  us  the  fairest  picture  of  the  knighthood  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  its  hero  is  the  Cid.  Several  Crusades, 
the  records  of  which  excite  our  unmixed  loathing  and  detesta- 
tion, were  undertaken  against  the  South  of  France  also.  There 
an  sesthetic  culture  had  developed  itself :  the  Troubadours  had 
introduced  a  freedom  of  manners  similar  to  that  which  pre- 
vailed under  the  Hohenstaufen  Emperors  in  Germany;  but 
with  this  difference,  that  the  former  had  in  it  something  affected, 
while  the  latter  was  of  a  more  genuine  kind.  But  as  in  Upper 
Italy,  so  also  in  the  South  of  France  fanatical  ideas  of  purity 
had  been  introduced ;  *  a  Crusade  was  therefore  preached 
against  that  country  by  Papal  authority.  St.  Dominic  entered 
it  with  a  vast  host  of  invaders,  who,  in  the  most  barbarous  man- 
ner, pillaged  and  murdered  the  innocent  and  the  guilty  indis- 
criminately, and  utterly  laid  waste  the  fair  region  which  they 
inhabited. 

Through  the  Crusades  the  Church  reached  the  completion 
of  its  authority:  it  had  achieved  the  perversion  of  religion 
and  of  the  divine  Spirit ;  it  had  distorted  the  principle  of  Chris- 
tian Freedom  to  a  wrongful  and  immoral  slavery  of  men's 
souls ;  and  in  so  doing,  far  from  abolishing  lawless  caprice  and 
violence  and  supplanting  them  by  a  virtuous  rule  of  its  own, 
it  had  even  enlisted  them  in  the  service  of  ecclesiastical  au- 
thority. In  the  Crusades  the  Pope  stood  at  the  head  of  the 
secular  power:  the  Emperor  appeared  only  in  a  subordinate 
position,  like  the  other  princes,  and  was  obliged  to  commit  both 
the  initiative  and  the  executive  to  the  Pope,  as  the  manifest 
generalissimo  of  the  expedition.  We  have  already  seen  the 
noble  house  of  Hohenstaufen  presenting  the  aspect  of  chival- 
rous, dignified  and  cultivated  opponents  of  the  Papal  power, 
when  Spirit  [the  moral  and  intellectual  element  in  Christen- 
dom] had  given  up  the  contest.    We  have  seen  how  they  were 

*  The  term  "  Cathari  "  (Ka9apoi).    Pur-       The  German  vvnrd  "  Ketzer  "  =  heretic  if 
ists,  was  one  of  the  most  general  designa-        by  some  derived  from  it. 
tions  of  the  dissident  sects  in  question. 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD  395 

ultimately  obliged  to  yield  to  the  Church ;  which,  elastic  enough 
to  sustain  any  attack,  bore  down  all  opposition  and  would  not 
move  a  step  towards  conciliation.  The  fall  of  the  Church  was 
not  to  be  effected  by  open  violence ;  it  was  from  wkhin — by  the 
power  of  Spirit  and  by  an  influence  that  wrought  its  way  up- 
wards— that  ruin  threatened  it.  Respect  for  the  Papacy  could 
not  but  be  weakened  by  the  very  fact  that  the  lofty  aim  of  the 
Crusades — the  satisfaction  expected  from  the  enjoyment  of 
the  sensuous  Presence — was  not  attained.  As  little  did  the 
Popes  succeed  in  keeping  possession  of  the  Holy  Land.  Zeal 
for  the  holy  cause  was  exhausted  among  the  princes  of  Europe. 
Grieved  to  the  heart  by  the  defeat  of  the  Christians,  the  Popes 
again  and  again  urged  them  to  advance  to  the  rescue;  but 
lamentations  and  entreaties  were  vain,  and  they  could  effect 
nothing.  Spirit,  disappointed  with  regard  to  its  craving  for 
the  highest  form  of  the  sensuous  presence  of  Deity,  fell  back 
upon  itself.  A  rupture,  the  first  of  its  kind  and  profound  as 
it  was  novel,  took  place.  From  this  time  forward  we  witness 
religious  and  intellectual  movements  in  which  Spirit — trans- 
cending the  repulsive  and  irrational  existence  by  which  it  is 
surrounded — either  finds  its  sphere  of  exercise  within  itself, 
and  draws  upon  its  own  resources  for  satisfaction,  or  throws 
its  energies  into  an  actual  world  of  general  and  morally  justi- 
fied aims,  which  are  therefore  aims  consonant  with  Freedom. 
The  efforts  thus  originated  are  now  to  be  described :  they  were 
the  means  by  which  Spirit  was  to  be  prepared  to  comprehend 
the  grand  purpose  of  its  Freedom  in  a  form  of  greater  purity 
and  moral  elevation. 

To  this  class  of  movements  belongs  in  the  first  place  the 
establishment  of  monastic  and  chivalric  orders,  designed  to 
carry  out  those  rules  of  life  which  the  Church  had  distinctly 
enjoined  upon  its  members.  That  renunciation  of  property, 
riches,  pleasures,  and  free  will,  which  the  Church  had  desig- 
nated as  the  highest  of  spiritual  attainments,  was  to  be  a  reality 
. — not  a  mere  profession.  The  existing  monastic  and  other  in- 
stitutions that  had  adopted  this  vow  of  renunciation,  had  been 
entirely  sunk  in  the  corruption  of  worldliness.  But  now  Spirit 
sought  to  realize  in  the  sphere  of  the  principle  of  negativity — 
purely  in  itself — what  the  Church  had  demanded.  The  more 
immediate  occasion  of  this  movement  was  the  rise  of  numerous 

heresies  in  the  South  of  France  and  Italy,  whose  tendency  was 
Vol.  23  R— Classics 


396  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

in  the  direction  of  enthusiasm;  and  the  unbelief  which  was 
now  gaining  ground,  but  which  the  Church  justly  deemed  not 
so  dangerous  as  those  heresies.  To  counteract  these  evils,  new 
monastic  orders  were  founded,  the  chief  of  which  was  that  of 
the  Franciscans,  or  Mendicant  Friars,  whose  founder,  St.  Fran- 
cis of  Ass-isi — a  man  possessed  by  an  enthusiasm  and  ecstatic 
passion  that  passed  all  bounds — spent  his  life  in  continually 
striving  for  the  loftiest  purity.  He  gave  an  impulse  of  the 
same  kind  to  his  order;  the  greatest  fervor  of  devotion,  the 
sacrifice  of  all  pleasures  in  contravention  of  the  prevailing 
worldliness  of  the  Church,  continual  penances,  the  severest 
poverty  (the  Franciscans  lived  on  daily  alms) — were  therefore 
peculiarly  characteristic  of  it.  Contemporaneously  with  it 
arose  the  Dominican  order,  founded  by  St.  Dominic ;  its  special 
business  was  preaching.  The  mendicant  friars  were  diffused 
through  Christendom  to  an  incredible  extent;  they  were,  on 
the  one  hand,  the  standing  apostolic  army  of  the  Pope,  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  they  strongly  protested  against  his  worldli- 
ness. The  Franciscans  were  powerful  allies  of  Louis  of  Ba- 
varia in  his  resistance  of  the  Papal  assumptions,  and  they  are 
said  to  have  been  the  authors  of  the  position,  that  a  General 
Council  was  higher  authority  than  the  Pope ;  but  subsequently 
they  too  sank  down  into  a  torpid  and  unintelligent  condition. 
In  the  same  way  the  ecclesiastical  Orders  of  Knighthood  con- 
templated the  attainment  of  purity  of  Spirit.  We  have  already 
called  attention  to  the  peculiar  chivalric  spirit  which  had  been 
developed  in  Spain  through  the  struggle  with  the  Saracens :  the 
same  spirit  was  diffused  as  the  result  of  the  Crusades  through 
the  whole  of  Europe.  .  The  ferocity  and  savage  valor  that  char- 
acterized the  predatory  life  of  the  barbarians — pacified  and 
brought  to  a  settled  state  by  possession,  and  restrained  by  the 
presence  of  equals — was  elevated  by  religion  and  then  kindled 
to  a  noble  enthusiasm  through  contemplating  the  boundless 
magnanimity  of  Oriental  prowess.  For  Christianity  also  con- 
tains the  element  of  boundless  abstraction  and  freedom ;  the 
Oriental  chivalric  spirit  found  therefore  in  Occidental  hearts 
a  response,  which  paved  the  way  for  their  attaining  a  nobler 
virtue  than  they  had  previously  known.  Ecclesiastical  orders 
of  knighthood  were  instituted  on  a  basis  resembling  that  of 
the  monastic  fraternities.  The  same  conventual  vow  of  renun- 
ciation was  imposed  on  their  members — the  giving  up  of  all 


THE   GERMAN    WORLD  397 

that  was  worldly.  But  at  the  same  time  they  undertook  the 
defence  of  the  pilgrims :  their  first  duty  therefore  was  knightly 
bravery;  ultimately,  they  were  also  pledged  to  the  sustenance 
and  care  of  the  poor  and  the  sick.  The  Orders  of  Knighthood 
were  divided  into  three:  that  of  St.  John,  that  of  the  Temple, 
and  the  Teutonic  Order.  These  associations  are  essentially 
distinguished  from  the  self-seeking  principle  of  feudalism. 
Their  members  sacrificed  themselves  with  almost  suicidal  bra- 
very for  a  common  interest.  Thus  these  Orders  transcended 
the  circle  of  their  immediate  environment,  and  formed  a  net- 
work of  fraternal  coalition  over  the  whole  of  Europe.  But  their 
members  sank  down  to  the  level  of  vulgar  interests,  and  the 
Orders  became  in  the  sequel  a  provisional  institute  for  the  no- 
bility generally,  rather  than  anything  else.  The  Order  of  the 
Temple  was  even  accused  of  forming  a  religion  of  its  own,  and 
of  having  renounced  Christ  in  the  creed  which,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Oriental  Spirit,  it  had  adopted. 

A  second  impulsion,  having  a  similar  origin,  was  that  in  the 
direction  of  Science.  The  development  of  Thought — the  ab- 
stractly Universal— now  had  its  commencement.  Those  fra- 
ternal associations  themselves,  having  a  common  object,  in 
whose  service  their  members  were  enlisted,  point  to  the  fact 
that  a  general  principle  was  beginning  to  be  recognized,  and 
which  gradually  became  conscious  of  its  power.  Thought  was 
first  directed  to  Theology,  which  now  became  Philosophy  under 
the  name  of  Scholastic  Divinity.  For  philosophy  and  theology 
have  the  Divine  as  their  common  object ;  and  although  the  the- 
ology of  the  Church  was  a  stereotyped  dogma,  the  impulse  now 
arose  to  justify  this  body  of  doctrine  in  the  view  of  Thought. 
"  When  we  have  arrived  at  Faith,"  says  the  celebrated  scholas- 
tic, Anselm,  "  it  is  a  piece  of  negligence  to  stop  short  of  convinc- 
ing ourselves,  by  the  aid  of  Thought,  of  that  to  which  we  have 
given  credence."  But  thus  conditioned  Thought  was  not  free, 
for  its  material  was  already  posited  ab  extra;  it  was  to  the 
proof  of  this  material  that  philosophy  devoted  its  energies.  But 
Thought  suggested  a  variety  of  questions,  the  complete  answer 
to  which  was  not  given  directly  in  the  symbols  of  the  Church ; 
and  since  the  Church  had  not  decided  respecting  them,  they 
were  legitimate  subjects  of  controversy.  Philosophy  was  in- 
deed called  an  ancilla  Udei,  for  it  was  in  subjection  to  that  mate- 
rial of  the  Church's  creed,  which  had  been  already  definitely 


398  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

settled;  but  yet  it  was  impossible  for  the  opposition  between 
Thought  and  Belief  not  to  manifest  itself.  As  Europe  pre- 
sented the  spectacle  of  chivalric  contests  generally — passages  of 
arms  and  tournaments — it  was  now  the  theatre  for  intellectual 
jousting  also.  It  is  incredible  to  what  an  extent  the  abstract 
forms  of  Thought  were  developed,  and  what  dexterity  was 
acquired  in  the  use  of  them.  This  intellectual  tourneying  for 
the  sake  of  exhibiting  skill,  and  as  a  diversion  (for  it  was  not 
the  doctrines  themselves,  but  only  the  forms  in  which  they 
were  couched  that  made  the  subject  of  debate),  was  chiefly 
prosecuted  and  brought  to  perfection  in  France.  France,  in 
fact,  began  at  that  time  to  be  regarded  as  the  centre  of  Chris- 
tendom :  there  the  scheme  of  the  first  Crusades  originated,  and 
French  armies  carried  it  out:  there  the  Popes  took  refuge  in 
their  struggles  with  the  German  emperors  and  with  the  Nor- 
man princes  of  Naples  and  Sicily,  and  there  for  a  time  they 
made  a  continuous  sojourn. — We  also  observe  in  the  period 
subsequent  to  the  Crusades,  commencements  of  Art — of  Paint- 
ing, viz.:  even  during  their  continuance  a  peculiar  kind  of 
poetry  had  made  it  appearance.  Spirit,  unable  to  satisfy  its 
cravings,  created  for  itself  by  imagination  fairer  forms  and  in 
a  calmer  and  freer  manner  than  the  actual  world  could  offer. 


Chapter  III. — The  Transition  from  Feudalism  to  Monarchy 

The  moral  phenomena  above  mentioned,  tending  in  the  di- 
rection of  a  general  principle,  were  partly  of  a  subjective,  partly 
of  a  speculative  order.  But  we  must  now  give  particular  atten- 
tion to  the  practical  political  movements  of  the  period.  The 
advance  which  that  period  witnessed,  presents  a  negative  aspect 
in  so  far  as  it  involves  the  termination  of  the  sway  of  individual 
caprice  and  of  the  isolation  of  power.  Its  affirmative  aspect 
is  the  rise  of  a  supreme  authority  whose  dominion  embraces  all 
— a  political  power  properly  so  called,  whose  subjects  enjoy  an 
equality  of  rights,  and  in  which  the  will  of  the  individual  is 
subordinated  to  that  common  interest  which  underlies  the 
whole.  This  is  the  advance  from  Feudalism  to  Monarchy.  The 
principle  of  feudal  sovereignty  is  the  outward  force  of  indi- 
viduals— princes,  liege  lords ;  it  is  a  force  destitute  of  intrinsic 
right.  The  subjects  of  such  a  Constitution  are  vassals  of  a 
superior  prince  or  seigneur,  to  whom  they  have  stipulated 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD 


399 


duties  to  perform :  but  whether  they  perform  these  duties  or 
not,  depends  upon  the  seigneur's  being  able  to  induce  them  so 
to  do,  by  force  of  character  or  by  grant  of  favors : — conversely, 
the  recognition  of  those  feudal  claims  themselves  was  extorted 
by  violence  in  the  first  instance ;  and  the  fulfilment  of  the  cor- 
responding duties  could  be  secured  only  by  the  constant  exercise 
of  the  power  which  was  the  sole  basis  of  the  claims  in  question. 
The  monarchical  principle  also  implies  a  supreme  authority, 
but  it  is  an  authority  over  persons  possessing  no  independent 
power  to  support  their  individual  caprice;  where  we  have  no 
longer  caprice  opposed  to  caprice;  for  the  supremacy  implied 
in  monarchy  is  essentially  a  power  emanating  from  a  political 
body,  and  is  pledged  to  the  furtherance  of  that  equitable  pur- 
pose on  which  the  constitution  of  a  state  is  based.  Feudal 
sovereignty  is  a  polyarchy :  we  see  nothing  but  Lords  and 
Serfs ;  in  Monarchy,  on  the  contrary,  there  is  one  Lord  and 
no  Serf,  for  servitude  is  abrogated  by  it,  and  in  it  Right  and 
Law  are  recognized ;  it  is  the  source  of  real  freedom.  Thus  in 
monarchy  the  caprice  of  individuals  is  kept  under,  and  a  com- 
mon gubernatorial  interest  established.  In  the  suppression  of 
those  isolated  powers,  as  also  in  the  resistance  made  to  that 
suppression,  it  seems  doubtful  whether  the  desire  for  a  lawful 
and  equitable  state  of  things,  or  the  wish  to  indulge  individual 
caprice,  is  the  impelling  motive.  Resistance  to  kingly  authority 
is  entitled  Liberty,  and  is  lauded  as  legitimate  and  noble  when 
the  idea  of  arbitrary  will  is  associated  with  that  authority.  But 
by  the  arbitrary  will  of  an  individual  exerting  itself  so  as  to 
subjugate  a  whole  body  of  men,  a  community  is  formed;  and 
comparing  this  state  of  things  with  that  in  which  every  point 
is  a  centre  of  capricious  violence,  we  find  a  much  smaller  num- 
ber of  points  exposed  to  such  violence.  The  great  extent  of 
such  a  sovereignty  necessitates  general  arrangements  for  the 
purposes  of  organization,  and  those  who  govern  in  accordance 
with  those  arrangements  are  at  the  same  time,  in  virtue  of  their 
office  itself,  obedient  to  the  state:  Vassals  become  Officers  of 
State,  whose  duty  it  is  to  execute  the  laws  by  which  the  state 
is  regulated.  But  since  this  monarchy  is  developed  from  feudal- 
ism, it  bears  in  the  first  instance  the  stamp  of  the  system  from 
which  it  sprang.  Individuals  quit  their  isolated  capacity  and 
become  members  of  Estates  [or  Orders  of  the  Realm]  and  Cor- 
porations ;  the  vassals  are  powerful  only  by  combination  as  an 


4oo  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

Order;  in  contraposition  to  them  the  cities  constitute  Powers 
in  virtue  of  their  communal  existence.  Thus  the  authority  of 
the  sovereign  inevitably  ceases  to  be  mere  arbitrary  sway.  The 
consent  of  the  Estates  and  Corporations  is  essential  to  its  main- 
tenance ;  and  if  the  prince  wishes  to  have  that  consent,  he  must 
will  what  is  just  and  reasonable. 

We  now  see  a  Constitution  embracing  various  Orders,  while 
Feudal  rule  knows  no  such  Orders.  We  observe  the  transition 
from  feudalism  to  monarchy  taking  place  in  three  ways : 

i.  Sometimes  the  lord  paramount  gains  a  mastery  over  his 
independent  vassals,  by  subjugating  their  individual  power — 
thus  making  himself  sole  ruler. 

2.  Sometimes  the  princes  free  themselves  from  the  feudal 
relation  altogether,  and  become  the  territorial  lords  of  certain 
states;  or  lastly 

3.  The  lord  paramount  unites  the  particular  lordships  that 
own  him  as  their  superior,  with  his  own  particular  suzerainty, 
in  a  more  peaceful  way,  and  thus  becomes  master  of  the  whole. 

These  processes  do  not  indeed  present  themselves  in  history 
in  that  pure  and  abstract  form  in  which  they  are  exhibited  here : 
often  we  find  more  modes  than  one  appearing  contemporane- 
ously ;  but  one  or  the  other  always  predominates.  The  cardinal 
consideration  is  that  the  basis  and  essential  condition  of  such 
a  political  formation  is  to  be  looked  for  in  the  particular  nation- 
alities in  which  it  had  its  birth.  Europe  presents  particular 
nations,  constituting  a  unity  in  their  very  nature,  and  having 
the  absolute  tendency  to  form  a  state.  All  did  not  succeed  in 
attaining  this  political  unity:  we  have  now  to  consider  them 
severally  in  relation  to  the  change  thus  introduced. 

First,  as  regards  the  Roman  empire,  the  connection  between 
Germany  and  Italy  naturally  results  from  the  idea  of  that  em- 
pire :  the  secular  dominion  united  with  the  spiritual  was  to 
constitute  one  whole ;  but  this  state  of  things  was  rather  the 
object  of  constant  struggle  than  one  actually  attained.  In  Ger- 
many and  Italy  the  transition  from  the  feudal  condition  to  mon- 
archy involved  the  entire  abrogation  of  the  former:  the  vassals 
became  independent  monarchs. 

Germany  had  always  embraced  a  great  variety  of  stocks: — 
Swabians,  Bavarians,  Franks,  Thuringians,  Saxons,  Burgun- 
dians:  to  these  must  be  added  the  Sclaves  of  Bohemia,  Ger- 
manized Sclaves  in  Mecklenburg,  in  Brandenburg,  and  in  a 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD  401 

part  of  Saxony  and  Austria;  so  that  no  such  combination  as 
took  place  in  France  was  possible.  Italy  presented  a  similar 
state  of  things.  The  Lombards  had  established  themselves 
there,  while  the  Greeks  still  possessed  the  Exarchate  and  Lower 
Italy :  the  Normans  too  established  a  kingdom  of  their  own  in 
Lower  Italy,  and  the  Saracens  maintained  their  ground  for  a 
time  in  Sicily.  When  the  rule  of  the  house  of  Hohenstaufen 
was  terminated,  barbarism  got  the  upper  hand  throughout  Ger- 
many ;  the  country  being  broken  up  into  several  sovereignties, 
•in  which  a  forceful  despotism  prevailed.  It  was  the  maxim  of 
the  electoral  princes  to  raise  only  weak  princes  to  the  imperial 
throne ;  they  even  sold  the  imperial  dignity  to  foreigners.  Thus 
the  unity  of  the  state  was  virtually  annulled.  A  number  of 
centres  of  power  were  formed,  each  of  which  was  a  predatory 
state:  the  legal  constitution  recognized  by  feudalism  was  dis- 
solved, and  gave  place  to  undisguised  violence  and  plunder; 
and  powerful  princes  made  themselves  lords  of  the  country. 
After  the  interregnum  the  Count  of  Hapsburg  was  elected 
Emperor,  and  the  House  of  Hapsburg  continued  to  fill 
the  imperial  throne  with  but  little  interruption.  These  em- 
perors were  obliged  to  create  a  force  of  their  own,  as  the  princes 
would  not  grant  them  an  adequate  power  attached  to  the  em- 
pire. But  that  state  of  absolute  anarchy  was  at  last  put  an  end 
to  by  associations  having  general  aims  in  view.  In  the  cities 
themselves  we  see  associations  of  a  minor  order ;  but  now  con~ 
federations  of  cities  were  formed  with  a  common  interest  in 
the  suppression  of  predatory  violence.  Of  this  kind  was  the 
Hanseatic  League  in  the  North,  the  Rhenish  League  consisting 
of  cities  lying  along  the  Rhine,  and  the  Swabian  League.  The 
aim  of  all  these  confederations  was  resistance  to  the  feudal 
lords;  and  even  princes  united  with  the  cities,  with  a  view  to 
the  subversion  of  the  feudal  condition  and  the  restoration  of 
a  peaceful  state  of  things  throughout  the  country.  What  the 
state  of  society  was  under  feudal  sovereignty  is  evident  from 
the  notorious  association  formed  for  executing  criminal  jus- 
tice: it  was  a  private  tribunal,  which,  under  the  name  of  the 
Vehmgericht,  held  secret  sittings ;  its  chief  seat  was  the  north- 
west of  Germany.  A  peculiar  peasant  association  was  also 
formed.  In  Germany  the  peasants  were  bondmen;  many  of 
them  took  refuge  in  the  towns,  or  settled  down  as  freemen  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  towns  (Pfahlbiirger)  ;  but  in  Switzer- 


4o2  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

land  a  peasant  fraternity  was  established.  The  peasants  of 
Uri,  Schwyz,  and  Unterwalden  were  under  imperial  gover- 
nors; for  the  Swiss  governments  were  not  the  property  of 
private  possessors,  but  were  official  appointments  of  the  Empire. 
These  the  sovereigns  of  the  Hapsburg  line  wished  to  secure 
to  their  own  house.  The  peasants,  with  club  and  iron-studded 
mace  [Morgenstern],  returned  victorious  from  a  contest  with 
the  haughty  steel-clad  nobles,  armed  with  spear  and  sword,  and 
practised  in  the  chivalric  encounters  of  the  tournament.  An- 
other invention  also  tended  to  deprive  the  nobility  of  the  as-, 
cendancy  which  they  owed  to  their  accoutrements — that  of 
gunpowder.  Humanity  needed  it,  and  it  made  its  appearance 
forthwith.  It  was  one  of  the  chief  instruments  in  freeing  the 
world  from  the  dominion  of  physical  force,  and  placing  the 
various  orders  of  society  on  a  level.  With  the  distinction  be- 
tween the  weapons  they  used,  vanished  also  that  between  lords 
and  serfs.  And  before  gunpowder  fortified  places  were  no 
longer  impregnable,  so  that  strongholds  and  castles  now  lose 
their  importance.  We  may  indeed  be  led  to  lament  the  decay 
or  the  depreciation  of  the  practical  value  of  personal  valor — 
the  bravest,  the  noblest  may  be  shot  down  by  a  cowardly  wretch 
at  safe  distance  in  an  obscure  lurking-place ;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  gunpowder  has  made  a  rational,  considerate  bravery — 
Spiritual  valor — the  essential  to  martial  success.  Only  through 
this  instrumentality  could  that  superior  order  of  valor  be  called 
forth — that  valor  in  which  the  heat  of  personal  feeling  has  no 
share ;  for  the  discharge  of  firearms  is  directed  against  a  body 
of  men — an  abstract  enemy,  not  individual  combatants.  The 
warrior  goes  to  meet  deadly  peril  calmly,  sacrificing  himself 
for  the  common  weal ;  and  the  valor  of  cultivated  nations  is 
characterized  by  the  very  fact,  that  it  does  not  rely  on  the  strong 
arm  alone,  but  places  its  confidence  essentially  in  the  intelli- 
gence, the  generalship,  the  character  of  its  commanders ;  and, 
as  was  the  case  among  the  ancients,  in  a  firm  combination  and 
unity  of  spirit  on  the  part  of  the  forces  they  command. 

In  Italy,  as  already  noticed,  we  behold  the  same  spectacle  as 
in  Germany — the  attainment  of  an  independent  position  by  iso- 
lated centres  of  power.  In  that  country,  warfare  in  the  hand* 
of  the  Condottieri  became  a  regular  business.  The  towns  were 
obliged  to  attend  to  their  trading  concerns,  and  therefore  em- 
ployed mercenary  troops,  whose  leaders  often  became  feudal 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD 


403 


lords ;  Francis  Sforza  even  made  himself  Duke  of  Milan.  In 
Florence,  the  Medici,  a  family  of  merchants,  rose  to  power. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  larger  cities  of  Italy  reduced  under 
their  sway  several  smaller  ones  and  many  feudal  chiefs.  A 
Papal  territory  was  likewise  formed.  There,  also,  a  very  large 
number  of  feudal  lords  had  made  themselves  independent;  by 
degrees  they  all  became  subject  to  the  one  sovereignty  of  the 
Pope.  How  thoroughly  equitable  in  the  view  of  social  morali- 
ty such  a  subjugation  was,  is  evident  from  Machiavelli's  cele- 
brated work  "  The  Prince."  This  book  has  often  been  thrown 
aside  in  disgust,  as  replete  with  the  maxims  of  the  most  re- 
volting tyranny;  but  nothing  worse  can  be  urged  against  it 
than  that  the  writer,  having  the  profound  consciousness  of  the 
necessity  for  the  formation  of  a  State,  has  here  exhibited  the 
principles  on  which  alone  states  could  be  founded  in  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  times.  The  chiefs  who  asserted  an  isolated 
independence,  and  the  power  they  arrogated,  must  be  entirely 
subdued;  and  though  we  cannot  reconcile  with  our  idea  of 
Freedom,  the  means  which  he  proposes  as  the  only  efficient 
ones,  and  regards  as  perfectly  justifiable — inasmuch  as  they 
involve  the  most  reckless  violence,  all  kinds  of  deception,  assas- 
sination, and  so  forth — we  must  nevertheless  confess  that  the 
feudal  nobility,  whose  power  was  to  be  subdued,  were  assailable 
in  no  other  way,  since  an  indomitable  contempt  for  principle, 
and  an  utter  depravity  of  morals,  were  thoroughly  engrained 
in  them. 

In  France  we  find  the  converse  of  that  which  occurred  in 
Germany  and  Italy.  For  many  centuries  the  Kings  of  France 
possessed  only  a  very  small  domain,  so  that  many  of  their 
vassals  were  more  powerful  than  themselves:  but  it  was  a 
great  advantage  to  the  royal  dignity  in  France,  that  the  prin- 
ciple of  hereditary  monarchy  was  firmly  established  there. 
The  consideration  it  enjoyed  was  increased  by  the  circumstance 
that  the  corporations  and  cities  had  their  rights  and  privileges 
confirmed  by  the  king,  and  that  the  appeals  to  the  supreme 
feudal  tribunal — the  Court  of  Peers,  consisting  of  twelve  mem- 
bers enjoying  that  dignity — became  increasingly  frequent.  The 
king's  influence  was  extended  by  his  affording  that  protection 
which  only  the  throne  could  give.  But  that  which  essentially 
secured  respect  for  royalty,  even  among  the  powerful  vassals, 
was  the  increasing  personal  power  of  the  sovereign.     In  vari- 


404  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

ous  ways,  by  inheritance,  by  marriage,  by  force  of  arms,  etc., 
the  Kings  had  come  into  possession  of  many  Earldoms  [Graf- 
schaften]  and  several  Duchies.  The  Dukes  of  Normandy  had, 
however,  become  Kings  of  England;  and  thus  a  formidable 
power  confronted  France,  whose  interior  lay  open  to  it  by 
way  of  Normandy.  Besides  this  there  were  powerful  Duchies 
still  remaining;  nevertheless,  the  King  was  not  a  mere  feudal 
suzerain  [Lehnsherr]  like  the  German  Emperors,  but  had  be- 
come a  territorial  possessor  [Landesherr]  :  he  had  a  number 
of  barons  and  cities  under  him,  who  were  subject  to  his  im- 
mediate jurisdiction ;  and  Louis  IX  succeeded  in  rendering  ap- 
peals to  the  royal  tribi  nal  common  throughout  his  kingdom. 
The  towns  attained  a  position  of  greater  importance  in  the 
state.  For  when  the  king  needed  money,  and  all  his  usual 
resources — such  as  taxes  and  forced  contributions  of  all  kinds 
— were  exhausted,  he  made  application  to  the  towns  and  entered 
into  separate  negotiations  with  them.  It  was  Philip  the  Fair 
who,  in  the  year  1302,  first  convoked  the  deputies  of  the  towns 
as  a  Third  Estate  in  conjunction  with  the  clergy  and  the  barons. 
All  indeed  that  they  were  in  the  first  instance  concerned  with 
was  the  authority  of  the  sovereign  as  the  power  that  had  con- 
voked them,  and  the  raising  of  taxes  as  the  object  of  their  con- 
vocation ;  but  the  States  nevertheless  secured  an  importance 
and  weight  in  the  kingdom,  and  as  the  natural  result,  an  in- 
fluence on  legislation  also.  A  fact  which  is  particularly  re- 
markable is  the  proclamation  issued  by  the  kings  of  France, 
giving  permission  to  the  bondsmen  on  the  crown  lands  to 
purchase  their  freedom  at  a  moderate  price.  In  the  way  we 
have  indicated  the  kings  of  France  very  soon  attained  great 
power;  while  the  flourishing  state  of  the  poetic  art  in  the 
hands  of  the  Troubadours,  and  the  growth  of  the  scholastic 
theology,  whose  especial  centre  was  Paris,  gave  France  a  cul- 
ture superior  to  that  of  the  other  European  states,  and  which 
secured  the  respect  of  foreign  nations. 

England,  as  we  have  already  had  occasion  to  mention,  was 
subjugated  by  William  the  Conqueror,  Duke  of  Normandy. 
William  introduced  the  feudal  system  into  it,  and  divided  the 
kingdom  into  fiefs,  which  he  granted  almost  exclusively  to  his 
Norman  followers.  He  himself  retained  considerable  crown 
possessions;  the  vassals  were  under  obligation  to  perform 
service  in  the  field,  and  to  aid  in  administering  justice:  the 


THE   GERMAN   WORLD  405 

King  was  the  guardian  of  all  vassals  under  age ;  they  could  not 
marry  without  his  consent.  Only  by  degrees  did  the  barons  and 
the  towns  attain  a  position  of  importance.  It  was  especially 
in  the  disputes  and  struggles  for  the  throne  that  they  acquired 
considerable  weight.  When  the  oppressive  rule  and  fiscal  ex- 
actions of  the  Kings  became  intolerable,  contentions  and  even 
war  ensued:  the  barons  compelled  King  John  to  swear  to 
Magna  Charta,  the  basis  of  English  liberty,  i.e.  more  particu- 
larly of  the  privileges  of  the  nobility.  Among  the  liberties  thus 
secured,  that  which  concerns  the  administration  of  justice  was 
the  chief :  no  Englishman  was  to  be  deprived  of  personal  free- 
dom, property,  or  life  without  the  judicial  verdict  of  his  peers. 
Every  one,  moreover,  was  to  be  entitled  to  the  free  disposition 
of  his  property.  Further,  the  King  was  to  impose  no  taxes 
without  the  consent  of  the  archbishops,  bishops,  earls,  and 
barons.  The  towns,  also,  favored  by  the  Kings  in  opposition 
to  the  barons,  soon  elevated  themselves  into  a  Third  Estate 
and  to  representation  in  the  Commons'  House  of  Parliament. 
Yet  the  King  was  always  very  powerful,  if  he  possessed 
strength  of  character :  his  crown  estates  procured  for  him  due 
consideration;  in  later  times,  however,  these  were  gradually 
alienated — given  away — so  that  the  King  was  reduced  to  ap- 
ply for  subsidies  to  the  parliament. 

We  shall  not  pursue  the  minute  and  specifically  historic  de- 
tails that  concern  the  incorporation  of  principalities  with  states, 
or  the  dissensions  and  contests  that  accompanied  such  incor- 
porations. We  have  only  to  add  that  the  kings,  when  by 
weakening  the  feudal  constitution,  they  had  attained  a  higher 
degree  of  power,  began  to  use  that  power  against  each  other 
in  the  undisguised  interest  of  their  own  dominion.  Thus 
France  and  England  carried  on  wars  with  each  other  for  a 
century.  The  kings  were  always  endeavoring  to  make  foreign 
conquests;  the  towns,  which  had  the  largest  share  of  the 
burdens  and  expenses  of  such  wars,  were  opposed  to  them, 
and  in  order  to  placate  them  the  kings  granted  them  important 
privileges. 

The  Popes  endeavored  to  make  the  disturbed  state  of  so- 
ciety to  which  each  of  these  changes  gave  rise,  an  occasion 
for  the  intervention  of  their  authority ;  but  the  interest  of  the 
growth  of  states  was  too  firmly  established  to  allow  them  to  make 
their  own  interest  of  absolute  authority  valid  against  it.  Princes 


4o6  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HISTORY 

and  peoples  were  indifferent  to  papal  clamor  urging  them 
to  new  crusades.  The  Emperor  Louis  set  to  work  to  deduce 
from  Aristotle,  the  Bible,  and  the  Roman  Law  a  refutation 
of  the  assumptions  of  the  Papal  See ;  and  the  electors  declared 
at  the  Diet  held  at  Rense  in  1338,  and  afterwards  still  more 
decidedly  at  the  Imperial  Diet  held  at  Frankfort,  that  they 
would  defend  the  liberties  and  hereditary  rights  of  the  Empire, 
and  that  to  make  the  choice  of  a  Roman  Emperor  or  King  valid, 
no  papal  confirmation  was  needed.  So,  at  an  earlier  date, 
1302,  on  occasion  of  a  contest  between  Pope  Boniface  and 
Philip  the  Fair,  the  Assembly  of  the  States  convoked  by  the 
latter  had  offered  opposition  to  the  Pope.  For  states  and  com- 
munities had  arrived  at  the  consciousness  of  independent  moral 
worth. — Various  causes  had  united  to  weaken  the  papal  au- 
thority: the  Great  Schism  of  the  Church,  which  led  men  to 
doubt  the  Pope's  infallibility,  gave  occasion  to  the  decisions  of 
the  Councils  of  Constance  and  Basle,  which  assumed  an  au- 
thority superior  to  that  of  the  Pope,  and  therefore  deposed  and 
appointed  Popes.  The  numerous  attempts  directed  against 
the  ecclesiastical  system  confirmed  the  necessity  of  a  reforma- 
tion. Arnold  of  Brescia,  Wickliffe,  and  Huss  met  with  sympa- 
thy in  contending  against  the  dogma  of  the  papal  vicegerency 
of  Christ,  and  the  gross  abuses  that  disgraced  the  hierarchy. 
These  attempts  were,  however,  only  partial  in  their  scope. 
On  the  one  hand  the  time  was  not  yet  ripe  for  a  more  compre- 
hensive onslaught;  on  the  other  hand  the  assailants  in  ques- 
tion did  not  strike  at  the  heart  of  the  matter,  but  (especially 
the  two  latter)  attacked  the  teaching  of  the  Church  chiefly 
with  the  weapons  of  erudition,  and  consequently  failed  to  excite 
a  deep  interest  among  the  people  at  large. 

But  the  ecclesiastical  principle  had  a  more  dangerous  foe  in 
the  incipient  formation  of  political  organizations,  than  in  the 
antagonists  above  referred  to.  A  common  object,  an  aim  in- 
trinsically possessed  of  perfect  moral  validity,*  presented  itself 
to  secularity  in  the  formation  of  states ;  and  to  this  aim  of 
community  the  will,  the  desire,  the  caprice  of  the  individual 
submitted  themselves.  The  hardness  characteristic  of  the  self- 
seeking  quality  of  "  Heart,"  maintaining  its  position  of  isolation 
— the  knotty  heart  of  oak  underlying  the  national  temperament 

*  That  is,  not  a  personal  aim,  whose        tion,   but  a   general  and   liberal,   conse* 
self-seeking   character   is   its  condemna-       quently  a  moral  aim. 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  407 

of  the  Germans — was  broken  down  and  mellowed  by  the  terrible 
discipline  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  two  iron  rods  which  were 
the  instruments  of  this  discipline  were  the  Church  and  serfdom. 
The  Church  drove  the  "  Heart "  [Gemuth]  to  desperation — 
made  Spirit  pass  through  the  severest  bondage,  so  that  the 
soul  was  no  longer  its  own ;  but  it  did  not  degrade  it  to  Hindoo 
torpor,  for  Christianity  is  an  intrinsically  spiritual  principle  and, 
as  such,  has  a  boundless  elasticity.  In  the  same  way  serfdom, 
which  made  a  man's  body  not  his  own,  but  the  property  of  an- 
other, dragged  humanity  through  all  the  barbarism  of  slavery 
and  unbridled  desire,  and  the  latter  was  destroyed  by  its  own 
violence.  It  was  not  so  much  from  slavery  as  through  slavery 
that  humanity  was  emancipated.  For  barbarism,  lust,  injustice 
constitute  evil:  man,  bound  fast  in  its  fetters,  is  unfit  for 
morality  and  religiousness ;  and  it  is  from  this  intemperate  and 
ungovernable  state  of  volition  that  the  discipline  in  question 
emancipated  him.  The  Church  fought  the  battle  with  the 
violence  of  rude  sensuality  in  a  temper  equally  wild  and  terror- 
istic with  that  of  its  antagonist :  it  prostrated  the  latter  by  dint 
of  the  terrors  of  hell,  and  held  it  in  perpetual  subjection,  in 
order  to  break  down  the  spirit  of  barbarism  and  to  tame  it  into 
repose.  Theology  declares  that  every  man  has  this  struggle 
to  pass  through,  since  he  is  by  nature  evil,  and  only  by  passing 
through  a  state  of  mental  laceration  arrives  at  the  certainty  of 
Reconciliation.  But  granting  this,  it  must  on  the  other  hand 
be  maintained,  that  the  form  of  the  contest  is  very  much  al- 
tered when  the  conditions  of  its  commencement  are  d  inherent, 
and  when  that  reconciliation  has  had  an  actual  realization. 
The  path  of  torturous  discipline  is  in  that  case  dispensed  with 
(it  does  indeed  make  its  appearance  at  a  later  date,  but  in  a 
quite  different  form),  for  the  waking  up  of  consciousness  finds 
man  surrounded  by  the  element  of  a  moral  state  of  society. 
The  phase  of  negation  is,  indeed,  a  necessary  element  in  human 
development,  but  it  has  now  assumed  the  tranquil  form  of  edu- 
cation, so  that  all  the  terrible  characteristics  of  that  inward 
struggle  vanish. 

Humanity  has  now  attained  the  consciousness  of  a  real  in- 
ternal harmonization  of  Spirit,  and  a  good  conscience  in  re- 
gard to  actuality — to  secular  existence.  The  Human  Spirit 
has  come  to  stand  on  its  own  basis.  In  the  self-consciousness 
to  which  man  has  thus  advanced,  there  is  no  revolt  against  the 


4o8  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

Divine,  but  a  manifestation  of  that  better  subjectivity,  which 
recognizes  the  Divine  in  its  own  being;  which  is  imbued  with 
the  Good  and  True,  and  which  directs  its  activities  to  general 
and  liberal  objects  bearing  the  stamp  of  rationality  and  beauty. 

Art  and  Science  as  Putting  a  Period  to  the  Middle  Ages 

Humanity  beholds  its  spiritual  firmament  restored  to  serenity. 
With  that  tranquil  settling  down  of  the  world  into  political 
order  which  we  have  been  contemplating,  was  conjoined  an  ex- 
altation of  Spirit  to  a  nobler  grade  of  humanity  in  a  sphere 
involving  more  comprehensive  and  concrete  interests  than  that 
with  which  political  existence  is  concerned.  The  Sepulchre — 
that  caput  mortuum  of  Spirit — and  the  Ultramundane  cease  to 
absorb  human  attention.  The  principle  of  a  specific  and  defi- 
nite embodiment  of  the  Infinite — that  desideratum  which  urged 
the  world  to  the  Crusades,  now  developed  itself  in  a  quite  dif- 
ferent direction,  viz.  in  secular  existence  asserting  an  inde- 
pendent ground:  Spirit  made  its  embodiment  an  outward  one 
and  found  a  congenial  sphere  in  the  secular  life  thus  originated. 
The  Church,  however,  maintained  its  former  position,  and  re- 
tained the  principle  in  question  in  its  original  form.  Yet  even 
in  this  case,  that  principle  ceased  to  be  limited  to  a  bare  outward 
existence  [a  sacred  thing,  the  Host,  e.g.]  :  it  was  transformed 
and  elevated  by  Art.  Art  spiritualizes — animates  the  mere 
outward  and  material  object  of  adoration  with  a  form  which 
expresses  soul,  sentiment,  Spirit ;  so  that  piety  has  not  a  bare 
sensuous  embodiment  of  the  Infinite  to  contemplate,  and  does 
not  lavish  its  devotion  on  a  mere  Thing,  but  on  the  higher  ele- 
ment with  which  the  material  object  is  imbued — that  expressive 
form  with  which  Spirit  has  invested  it. — It  is  one  thing  for  the 
mind  to  have  before  it  a  mere  Thing — such  as  the  Host  per  se, 
a  piece  of  stone  or  wood,  or  a  wretched  daub ; — quite  another 
thing  for  it  to  contemplate  a  painting,  rich  in  thought  and  senti- 
ment, or  a  beautiful  work  of  sculpture,  in  looking  at  which, 
soul  holds  converse  with  soul  and  Spirit  with  Spirit.  In  the 
former  case,  Spirit  is  torn  from  its  proper  element,  bound 
down  to  something  utterly  alien  to  it — the  Sensuous,  the  Non- 
Spiritual.  In  the  latter,  on  the  contrary,  the  sensuous  object 
is  a  beautiful  one,  and  the  Spiritual  Form  with  which  it  is  en- 
dued, gives  it  a  soul  and  contains  truth  in  itself.  But  on  the  one 
hand,  this  element  of  truth  as  thus  exhibited,  is  manifested  only 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  409 

in  a  sensuous  mode,  not  in  its  appropriate  form ;  on  the  other 
hand,  while  Religion  normally  involves  independence  of  that 
which  is  essentially  a  mere  outward  and  material  object — a 
mere  thing — that  kind  of  religion  which  is  now  under  consid- 
eration, finds  no  satisfaction  in  being  brought  into  connection 
with  the  Beautiful:  the  coarsest,  ugliest,  poorest  representa- 
tions will  suit  its  purpose  equally  well — perhaps  better.  Ac- 
cordingly real  masterpieces — e.g.  Raphael's  Madonnas — do  not 
enjoy  distinguished  veneration,  or  elicit  a  multitude  of  offer- 
ings: inferior  pictures  seem  on  the  contrary  to  be  especial 
favorites  and  to  be  made  the  object  of  the  warmest  devotion 
and  the  most  generous  liberality.  Piety  passes  by  the  former 
for  this  very  reason,  that  were  it  to  linger  in  their  vicinity  it 
would  feel  an  inward  stimulus  and  attraction ; — an  excitement 
of  a  kind  which  cannot  but  be  felt  to  be  alien,  where  all  that  is 
desiderated  is  a  sense  of  mental  bondage  in  which  self  is  lost — 
the  stupor  of  abject  dependence. — Thus  Art  in  its  very  nature 
transcended  the  principle  of  the  Church.  But  as  the  former 
manifests  itself  only  under  sensuous  limitations  [and  does  not 
present  the  suspicious  aspect  of  abstract  thought] ,  it  is  at  first 
regarded  as  a  harmless  and  indifferent  matter.  The  Church, 
therefore,  continued  to  follow  it ;  but  as  soon  as  the  free  Spirit 
in  which  Art  originated,  advanced  to  Thought  and  Science,  a 
separation  ensued. 

For  Art  received  a  further  support  and  experienced  an  ele- 
vating influence  as  the  result  of  the  study  of  antiquity  (the 
name  humaniora  is  very  expressive,  for  in  those  works  of  an- 
tiquity honor  is  done  to  the  Human  and  to  the  development  of 
Humanity)  :  through  this  study  the  West  became  acquainted 
with  the  true  and  eternal  element  in  the  activity  of  man.  The 
outward  occasion  of  this  revival  of  science  was  the  fall  of  the 
Byzantine  Empire.  Large  numbers  of  Greeks  took  refuge  in 
the  West  and  introduced  Greek  literature  there;  and  they 
brought  with  them  not  only  the  knowledge  of  the  Greek  lan- 
guage but  also  the  treasures  to  which  that  knowledge  was  the 
key.  Very  little  of  Greek  literature  had  been  preserved  in  the 
convents,  and  an  acquaintance  with  the  language  could  scarcely 
be  said  to  exist  at  all.  With  the  Roman  literature  it  was  other- 
wise ;  in  regard  to  that,  ancient  traditions  still  lingered :  Virgil 
was  thought  to  be  a  great  magician  ( in  Dante  he  appears  as  the 
guide  in  Hell  and  Purgatory).     Through  the  influence  of  the 


4IO  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

Greeks,  then,  attention  was  again  directed  to  the  ancient  Greek 
literature;  the  West  had  become  capable  of  enjoying  and  ap- 
preciating it;  quite  other  ideals  and  a  different  order  of  virtue 
from  that  with  which  mediaeval  Europe  was  familiar  were  here 
presented;  an  altogether  novel  standard  for  judging  of  what 
was  to  be  honored,  commended  and  imitated  was  set  up.  The 
Greeks  in  their  works  exhibited  quite  other  moral  commands 
than  those  with  which  the  West  was  acquainted;  scholastic 
formalism  had  to  make  way  for  a  body  of  speculative  thought 
of  a  widely  different  complexion :  Plato  became  known  in  the 
West,  and  in  him  a  new  human  world  presented  itself.  These 
novel  ideas  met  with  a  principal  organ  of  diffusion  in  the  newly 
discovered  Art  of  Printing,  which,  like  the  use  of  gunpowder, 
corresponds  with  modern  character,  and  supplied  the  desidera- 
tum of  the  age  in  which  it  was  invented,  by  tending  to  enable 
men  to  stand  in  an  ideal  connection  with  each  other.  So  far 
as  the  study  of  the  ancients  manifested  an  interest  in  human 
deeds  and  virtues,  the  Church  continued  to  tolerate  it,  not  ob- 
serving that  in  those  alien  works  an  altogether  alien  spirit  was 
advancing  to  confront  it, 

As  a  third  leading  feature  demanding  our  notice  in  de- 
termining the  character  of  the  period,  might  be  mentioned  that 
urging  of  Spirit  outwards — that  desire  on  the  part  of  man  to 
become  acquainted  with  his  world.  The  chivalrous  spirit  of 
the  maritime  heroes  of  Portugal  and  Spain  opened  a  new  way 
to  the  East  Indies  and  discovered  America.  This  progressive 
step  also,  involved  no  transgression  of  the  limits  of  ecclesiasti- 
cal principles  or  feeling.  The  aim  of  Columbus  was  by  no 
means  a  merely  secular  one:  it  presented  also  a  distinctly  re- 
ligious aspect ;  the  treasures  of  those  rich  Indian  lands  which 
awaited  his  discovery  were  destined  in  his  intention  to  be  ex- 
pended in  a  new  Crusade,  and  the  heathen  inhabitants  of  the 
countries  themselves  were  to  be  converted  to  Christianity.  The 
recognition  of  the  spherical  figure  of  the  earth  led  man  to  per- 
ceive that  it  offered  him  a  definite  and  limited  object,  and 
navigation  had  been  benefited  by  the  new  found  instrumentality 
of  the  magnet,  enabling  it  to  be  something  better  than  mere 
coasting :  thus  technical  appliances  make  their  appearance  when 
a  need  for  them  is  experienced. 

These  three  events — the  so-called  Revival  of  Learning,  the 
flourishing  of  the  Fine  Arts  and  the  discovery  of  America  and 


THE    GERMAN    WORLD  411 

of  the  passage  to  India  by  the  Cape — may  be  compared  with 
that  blush  of  dawn,  which  after  long  storms  first  betokens  the 
return  of  a  bright  and  glorious  day.  This  day  is  the  day  of 
Universality,  which  breaks  upon  the  world  after  the  long,  event- 
ful, and  terrible  night  of  the  Middle  Ages — a  day  which  is  dis- 
tinguished by  science,  art  and  inventive  impulse — that  is,  by 
the  noblest  and  highest,  and  which  Humanity,  rendered  free  by 
Christianity  and  emancipated  through  the  instrumentality  of 
the  Church,  exhibits  as  the  eternal  and  veritable  substance  of 
its  being. 


SECTION  III 

THE  MODERN  TIME 

WE  have  now  arrived  at  the  third  period  of  the  German 
World,  and  thus  enter  upon  the  period  of  Spirit  con- 
scious that  it  is  free,  inasmuch  as  it  wills  the  True, 
the  Eternal — that  which  is  in  and  for  itself  Universal. 

In  this  third  period  also,  three  divisions  present  themselves. 
First,  we  have  to  consider  the  Reformation  in  itself — the  all- 
enlightening  Sun,  following  on  that  blush  of  dawn  which  we 
observed  at  the  termination  of  the  mediaeval  period ;  next,  the 
unfolding  of  that  state  of  things  which  succeeded  the  Reforma- 
tion ;  and  lastly,  the  Modern  Times,  dating  from  the  end  of  the 
last  century. 

Chapter  I. — The  Reformation 

The  Reformation  resulted  from  the  corruption  of  the  ChurcH. 
That  corruption  was  not  an  accidental  phenomenon ;  it  was  not 
the  mere  abuse  of  power  and  dominion.  A  corrupt  state  of 
things  is  very  frequently  represented  as  an  "  abuse  " ;  it  is  taken 
for  granted  that  the  foundation  was  good — the  system,  the  in- 
stitution itself  faultless — but  that  the  passion,  the  subjective 
interest,  in  short  the  arbitrary  volition  of  men  has  made  use  of 
that  which  in  itself  was  good  to  further  its  own  selfish  ends, 
and  that  all  that  is  required  to  be  done  is  to  remove  these  ad- 
ventitious elements.  On  this  showing  the  institute  in  question 
escapes  obloquy,  and  the  evil  that  disfigures  it  appears  some- 
thing foreign  to  it.  But  when  accidental  abuse  of  a  good  thing 
really  occurs,  it  is  limited  to  particularity.  A  great  and  gen- 
eral corruption  affecting  a  body  of  such  large  and  comprehen- 
sive scope  as  a  Church,  is  quite  another  thing. — The  corruption 
of  the  Church  was  a  native  growth ;  the  principle  of  that  cor- 
ruption is  to  be  looked  for  in  the  fact  that  the  specific  and 
definite  embodiment  of  Deity  which  it  recognizes,  is  sensuous — 
that  the  external  in  a  coarse  material  form,  is  enshrined  in  its 

41a 


THE   MODERN  TIME  413 

inmost  being.  (The  refining  transformation  which  Art  sup- 
plied was  not  sufficient. )  The  higher  Spirit — that  of  the  World 
— has  already  expelled  the  Spiritual  from  it;  it  finds  nothing 
to  interest  it  in  the  Spiritual  or  in  occupation  with  it ;  thus  it  re- 
tains that  specific  and  definite  embodiment; — i.e.,  we  have  the 
sensuous  immediate  subjectivity,  not  refined  by  it  to  Spiritual 
subjectivity. — Henceforth  it  occupies  a  position  of  inferiority 
to  the  World-Spirit;  the  latter  has  already  transcended  it,  for 
it  has  become  capable  of  recognizing  the  Sensuous  as  sensuous, 
the  merely  outward  as  merely  outward ;  it  has  learned  to  occupy 
itself  with  the  Finite  in  a  finite  way,  and  in  this  very  activity 
to  maintain  an  independent  and  confident  position  as  a  valid 
and  rightful  subjectivity.* 

The  element  in  question  which  is  innate  in  the  Ecclesiastical 
principle  only  reveals  itself  as  a  corrupting  one  when  the 
Church  has  no  longer  any  opposition  to  contend  with — when 
it  has  become  firmly  established.  Then  its  elements  are  free 
to  display  their  tendencies  without  let  or  hindrance.  Thus 
it  is  that  externality  in  the  Church  itself  which  becomes  evil 
and  corruption,  and  develops  itself  as  a  negative  principle  in  its 
own  bosom. — The  forms  which  this  corruption  assumes  are 
coextensive  with  the  relations  which  the  Church  itself  sustains, 
into  which  consequently  this  vitiating  element  enters. 

The  ecclesiastical  piety  of  the  period  displays  the  very  essence 
of  superstition — the  fettering  of  the  mind  to  a  sensuous  object, 
a  mere  Thing — in  the  most  various  forms : — slavish  deference 
to  Authority;  for  Spirit,  having  renounced  its  proper  nature 
in  its  most  essential  quality  [having  sacrificed  its  characteristic 
liberty  to  a  mere  sensuous  object],  has  lost  its  Freedom,  and  is 
held  in  adamantine  bondage  to  what  is  alien  to  itself; — a  cre- 
dulity of  the  most  absurd  and  childish  character  in  regard  to 
Miracles,  for  the  Divine  is  supposed  to  manifest  itself  in  a  per- 
fectly disconnected  and  limited  way,  for  purely  finite  and  partic- 
ular purposes ; — lastly,  lust  of  power,  riotous  debauchery,  all 
the  forms  of  barbarous  and  vulgar  corruption,  hypocrisy  and 
deception — all  this  manifests  itself  in  the  Church;  for  in  fact 
the  Sensuous  in  it  is  not  subjugated  and  trained  by  the  Under- 

*  The  Church,  in  its  devotion  to  mere  the  Sensuous,  but  labors  under  no  such 
ceremonial  observances,  supposes  itself  to  hallucination  as  to  the  character  of  its 
be  engaged  with  the  Spiritual,  while  it  activity;  and  it  has  ceased  to  feel  corn- 
is  really  occupied  with  the  Sensuous.  punction  at  the  merely  secular  nature  of 
The  World  towards  the  close  of  the  its  aims  and  actions,  such  as  it  might 
Mediaeval  period,  is  eaually  devoted  to  have  felt  (e.g.)  in  the  eleventh  century. 


4I4  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

standing ;  it  has  become  free,  but  only  in  a  rough  and  barbarous 
way. — On  the  other  hand  the  virtue  which  the  Church  presents, 
since  it  is  negative  only  in  opposition  to  sensual  appetite,  is  but 
abstractly  negative;  it  does  not  know  how  to  exercise  a  moral 
restraint  in  the  indulgence  of  the  senses ;  in  actual  life  nothing 
is  left  for  it  but  avoidance,  renunciation,  inactivity. 

These  contrasts  which  the  Church  exhibits — of  barbarous 
vice  and  lust  on  the  one  hand,  and  an  elevation  of  soul  that  is 
ready  to  renounce  all  worldly  things,  on  the  other  hand — be- 
came still  wider  in  consequence  of  the  energetic  position  which 
man  is  sensible  of  occupying  in  his  subjective  power  over  out- 
ward and  material  things  in  the  natural  world,  in  which  he 
feels  himself  free,  and  so  gains  for  himself  an  absolute  right. — 
The  Church  whose  office  it  is  to  save  souls  from  perdition, 
makes  this  salvation  itself  a  mere  external  appliance,  and  is 
now  degraded  so  far  as  to  perform  this  office  in  a  merely  ex- 
ternal fashion.  The  remission  of  sins — the  highest  satisfaction 
which  the  soul  craves,  the  certainty  of  its  peace  with  God,  that 
which  concerns  man's  deepest  and  inmost  nature — is  offered  to 
man  in  the  most  grossly  superficial  and  trivial  fashion — to  be 
purchased  for  mere  money;  while  the  object  of  this  sale  is  to 
procure  means  for  dissolute  excess.  One  of  the  objects  of 
this  sale  was  indeed  the  building  of  St.  Peter's,  that  magnificent 
chef-d'oeuvre  of  Christian  fabrics  erected  in  the  metropolis  of 
religion.  But,  as  that  paragon  of  works  of  art,  the  Athene  and 
her  temple-citadel  at  Athens,  was  built  with  the  money  of  the 
allies  and  issued  in  the  loss  of  both  allies  and  power;  so  the 
completion  of  this  Church  of  St.  Peter  and  Michael  Angelo's 
"  Last  Judgment "  in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  were  the  Doomsday 
and  the  ruin  of  this  proud  spiritual  edifice. 

The  time-honored  and  cherished  sincerity  of  the  German  peo- 
ple is  destined  to  effect  this  revolution  out  of  the  honest  truth 
and  simplicity  of  its  heart.  While  the  rest  of  the  world  are  urg- 
ing their  way  to  India,  to  America — straining  every  nerve  to 
gain  wealth  and  to  acquire  a  secular  dominion  which  shall 
encompass  the  globe,  and  on  which  the  sun  shall  never  set — we 
find  a  simple  Monk  looking  for  that  specific  embodiment  of 
Deity  which  Christendom  had  formerly  sought  in  an  earthly 
sepulchre  of  stone,  rather  in  the  deeper  abyss  of  the  Absolute 
Ideality  of  all  that  is  sensuous  and  external — in  the  Spirit  and 
the  Heart — the  heart,   which,  wounded  unspeakably  by  the 


THE  MODERN  TIME  415 

offer  of  the  most  trivial  and  superficial  appliances  to  satisfy  the 
cravings  of  that  which  is  inmost  and  deepest,  now  detects  the 
perversion  of  the  absolute  relation  of  truth  in  its  minutest 
features,  and  pursues  it  to  annihilation.  Luther's  simple  doc- 
trine is  that  the  specific  embodiment  of  Deity — infinite  sub- 
jectivity, that  is  true  spirituality,  Christ — is  in  no  way  present 
and  actual  in  an  outward  form,  but  as  essentially  spiritual  is 
Obtained  only  in  being  reconciled  to  God — in  faith  and  spiritual 
enjoyment.  These  two  words  express  everything.  That 
which  this  doctrine  desiderates,  is  not  the  recognition  of  a  sen- 
suous object  as  God,  nor  even  of  something  merely  conceived, 
and  which  is  not  actual  and  present,  but  of  a  Reality  that  is 
not  sensuous.  This  abrogation  of  externality  imports  the  re- 
construction of  all  the  doctrines,  and  the  reform  of  all  the  super- 
stition into  which  the  Church  consistently  wandered,  and  in 
which  its  spiritual  life  was  dissipated.  This  change  especially, 
affects  the  doctrine  of  works;  for  works  include  what  may  be 
performed  under  any  mental  conditions — not  necessarily  in 
faith,  in  one's  own  soul,  but  as  mere  external  observances  pre- 
scribed by  authority.  Faith  is  by  no  means  a  bare  assurance 
respecting  mere  finite  things — an  assurance  which  belongs  only 
to  limited  mind — as  e.g.  the  belief  that  such  or  such  a  person 
existed  and  said  this  or  that;  or  that  the  Children  of  Israel 
passed  dry-shod  through  the  Red  Sea — or  that  the  trumpets 
before  the  walls  of  Jericho  produced  as  powerful  an  impression 
as  our  cannons ;  for  although  nothing  of  all  this  had  been  re- 
lated to  us,  our  knowledge  of  God  would  not  be  the  less  com- 
plete. In  fact  it  is  not  a  belief  in  something  that  is  absent, 
past  and  gone,  but  the  subjective  assurance  of  the  Eternal,  of 
Absolute  Truth,  the  Truth  of  God.  Concerning  this  assurance, 
the  Lutheran  Church  affirms  that  the  Holy  Spirit  alone  pro- 
duces it — i.e.  that  it  is  an  assurance  which  the  individual  at- 
tains, not  in  virtue  of  his  particular  idiosyncrasy,  but  of  his 
essential  being. — The  Lutheran  doctrine  therefore  involves  the 
entire  substance  of  Catholicism,  with  the  exception  of  all  that 
results  from  the  element  of  externality- — as  far  as  the  Catholic 
Church  insists  upon  that  externality.  Luther  therefore  could 
not  do  otherwise  than  refuse  to  yield  an  iota  in  regard  to  that 
doctrine  of  the  Eucharist  in  which  the  whole  question  is  con- 
centrated. Nor  could  he  concede  to  the  Reformed  [Calvinistic] 
Church,  that  Christ  is  a  mere  commemoration,  a  mere  reminis- 


4i6  PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 

cence:  in  this  respect  his  view  was  rather  in  accordance  with 
that  of  the  Catholic  Church,  viz.  that  Christ  is  an  actual  pres- 
ence, though  only  in  faith  and  in  Spirit.  He  maintained  that 
the  Spirit  of  Christ  really  fills  the  human  heart — that  Christ 
therefore  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  merely  a  historical  person, 
but  that  man  sustains  an  immediate  relation  to  him  in  Spirit. 

While,  then,  the  individual  knows  that  he  is  filled  with  the 
Divine  Spirit,  all  the  relations  that  sprung  from  that  vitiating 
element  of  externality  which  we  examined  above,  are  ipso  facto 
abrogated :  there  is  no  longer  a  distinction  between  priests  and 
laymen;  we  no  longer  find  one  class  in  possession  of  the  sub- 
stance of  the  Truth,  as  of  all  the  spiritual  and  temporal  treasures 
Df  the  Church;  but  the  heart — the  emotional  part  of  man's 
Spiritual  nature — is  recognized  as  that  which  can  and  ought 
to  come  into  possession  of  the  Truth;  and  this  subjectivity  is 
the  common  property  of  all  mankind.  Each  has  to  accomplish 
the  work  of  reconciliation  in  his  own  soul. — Subjective  Spirit 
has  to  receive  the  Spirit  of  Truth  into  itself,  and  give  it  a  dwell- 
ing place  there.  Thus  that  absolute  inwardness  of  soul  which 
pertains  to  religion  itself,  and  Freedom  in  the  Church  are  both 
secured.  Subjectivity  therefore  makes  the  objective  purport 
of  Christianity,  i.e.  the  doctrine  of  the  Church,  its  own.  In  the 
Lutheran  Church  the  subjective  feeling  and  the  conviction 
of  the  individual  is  regarded  as  equally  necessary  with  the  ob- 
jective side  of  Truth.  Truth  with  Lutherans  is  not  a  finished 
and  completed  thing ;  the  subject  himself  must  be  imbued  with 
Truth,  surrendering  his  particular  being  in  exchange  for  the 
substantial  Truth,  and  making  that  Truth  his  own.  Thus  sub- 
jective Spirit  gains  emancipation  in  the  Truth,  abnegates  its 
particularity  and  comes  to  itself  in  realizing  the  truth  of  its 
being.  Thus  Christian  Freedom  is  actualized.  If  Subjectivity 
be  placed  in  feeling  only,  without  that  objective  side,  we  have 
the  stand-point  of  the  merely  Natural  Will. 

In  the  proclamation  of  these  principles  is  unfurled  the  new, 
the  latest  standard  round  which  the  peoples  rally — the  banner 
of  Free  Spirit,  independent,  though  finding  its  life  in  the  Truth, 
and  enjoying  independence  only  in  it.  This  is  the  banner  under 
which  we  serve,  and  which  we  bear.  Time,  since  that  epoch, 
has  had  no  other  work  to  do  than  the  formal  imbuing  of  the 
world  with  this  principle,  in  bringing  the  Reconciliation  im- 
plicit [in  Christianity]  into  objective  and  explicit  realization. 


THE  MODERN  TIME  417 

Culture  is  essentially  concerned  with  Form;  the  work  of  Cul- 
ture is  the  production  of  the  Form  of  Universality,  which  is 
none  other  than  Thought.*  Consequently  Law,  Property,  So- 
cial Morality,  Government,  Constitutions,  etc.,  must  be  con- 
formed to  general  principles,  in  order  that  they  may  accord 
with  the  idea  of  Free  Will  and  be  Rational.  Thus  only  can  the 
Spirit  of  Truth  manifest  itself  in  Subjective  Will — in  the  par- 
ticular shapes  which  the  activity  of  the  Will  assumes.  In  vir- 
tue of  that  degree  of  intensity  which  Subjective  Free  Spirit  has 
attained,  elevating  it  to  the  form  of  Universality,  Objective 
Spirit  attains  manifestation.  This  is  the  sense  in  which  we 
must  understand  the  State  to  be  based  on  Religion.  States 
and  Laws  are  nothing  else  than  Religion  manifesting  itself  in 
the  relations  of  the  actual  world. 

This  is  the  essence  of  the  Reformation :  Man  is  in  his  very 
nature  destined  to  be  free. 

At  its  commencement,  the  Reformation  concerned  itself  only 
with  particular  aspects  of  the  Catholic  Church :  Luther  wished 
to  act  in  union  with  the  whole  Catholic  world,  and  expressed  a 
desire  that  Councils  should  be  convened.  His  theses  found 
supporters  in  every  country.  In  answer  to  the  charge  brought 
against  Luther  and  the  Protestants,  of  exaggeration — nay,  even 
of  calumnious  misrepresentation  in  their  descriptions  of  the 
corruption  of  the  Church,  we  may  refer  to  the  statements  of 
Catholics  themselves,  bearing  upon  this  point,  and  particularly 
to  those  contained  in  the  official  documents  of  Ecclesiastical 
Councils.  But  Luther's  onslaught,  which  was  at  first  limited 
to  particular  points,  was  soon  extended  to  the  doctrines  of 
the  Church;  and  leaving  individuals,  he  attacked  institutions 
at  large — conventual  life,  the  secular  lordships  of  the  bishops, 
etc.  His  writings  now  controverted  not  merely  isolated  dicta 
of  the  Pope  and  the  Councils,  but  the  very  principle  on  which 
such  a  mode  of  deciding  points  in  dispute  was  based — in  fact, 
the  Authority  of  the  Church.  Luther  repudiated  that  author- 
ity, and  set  up  in  its  stead  the  Bible  and  the  testimony  of  the 
Human  Spirit.  And  it  is  a  fact  of  the  weightiest  import  that 
the  Bible  has  become  the  basis  of  the  Christian  Church :  hence- 

*  The   community  of  principle  which  stituents     of     generic     character.    The 

really  links  together  individuals  of  the  primary  meaning  of  the  word    iS4a     and 

same  class,  and  in  virtue  of  which  they  of  the  related  terms  etSos  and  species,  is 

are  similarly  related  to  other  existences,  "form."  Every  "Universal"  in  Thought 

assumes  a  form  in  human  consciousness;  has  a  corresponding  generic  principle  in 

and   that   form   is   the   thought   or   idea  Reality,  to  which  it  gives  intellectual  ex- 

which  summarily  comprehends  the  con-  pression  or  form. 


4i8  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

forth  each  individual  enjoys  the  right  of  deriving  instruction 
for  himself  from  it,  and  of  directing  his  conscience  in  accord- 
ance with  it.  We  see  a  vast  change  in  the  principle  by  which 
man's  religious  life  is  guided:  the  whole  system  of  Tradition, 
the  whole  fabric  of  the  Church  becomes  problematical,  and  its 
authority  is  subverted.  Luther's  translation  of  the  Bible  has 
been  of  incalculable  value  to  the  German  people.  It  has  sup- 
plied them  with  a  People's  Book,  such  as  no  nation  in  the  Catho- 
lic world  can  boast ;  for  though  the  latter  have  a  vast  number 
of  minor  productions  in  the  shape  of  prayer-books,  they  have 
no  generally  recognized  and  classical  book  for  popular  instruc- 
tion. In  spite  of  this  it  has  been  made  a  question  in  modern 
times  whether  it  is  judicious  to  place  the  Bible  in  the  hands  of 
the  People.  Yet  the  few  disadvantages  thus  entailed  are  far 
more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  incalculable  benefits  thence 
accruing:  narratives,  which  in  their  external  shape  might  be 
repellent  to  the  heart  and  understanding,  can  be  discriminating- 
ly treated  by  the  religious  sense,  which,  holding  fast  the  sub- 
stantial truth,  easily  vanquishes  any  such  difficulties.  And 
even  if  the  books  which  have  pretensions  to  the  character  of 
People's  Books,  were  not  so  superficial  as  they  are,  they  would 
certainly  fail  in  securing  that  respect  which  a  book  claiming 
such  a  title  ought  to  inspire  in  individuals.  But  to  obviate  this 
difficulty  is  no  easy  matter,  for  even  should  a  book  adapted  to 
the  purpose  in  every  other  respect  be  produced,  every  country 
parson  would  have  some  fault  to  find  with  it,  and  think  to  better 
it.  In  France  the  need  of  such  a  book  has  been  very  much  felt ; 
great  premiums  have  been  offered  with  a  view  to  obtaining 
one,  but,  from  the  reason  stated,  without  success.  Moreover, 
the  existence  of  a  People's  Book  presupposes  as  its  primary 
condition  an  ability  to  read  on  the  part  of  the  People ;  an  ability 
which  in  Catholic  countries  is  not  very  commonly  to  be  met 
with. 

The  denial  of  the  Authority  of  the  Church  necessarily  led 
to  a  separation.  The  Council  of  Trent  stereotyped  the  prin- 
ciples of  Catholicism,  and  made  the  restoration  of  concord  im- 
possible. Leibnitz  at  a  later  time  discussed  with  Bishop  Bos- 
suet  the  question  of  the  union  of  the  Churches ;  but  the  Council 
of  Trent  remains  the  insurmountable  obstacle.  The  Churches 
became  hostile  parties,  for  even  in  respect  to  secular  arrange- 
ments a  striking  difference  manifested  itself.     In  the  non-Cath- 


THE  MODERN   TIME  419 

olic  countries  the  conventual  establishments  and  episcopal 
foundations  were  broken  up,  and  the  rights  of  the  then  pro- 
prietors ignored.  Educational  arrangements  were  altered ;  the 
fasts  and  holy  days  were  abolished.  Thus  there  was  also  a 
secular  reform — a  change  affecting  the  state  of  things  outside 
the  sphere  of  ecclesiastical  relations :  in  many  places  a  rebellion 
was  raised  against  the  temporal  authorities.  In  Minister  the 
Anabaptists  expelled  the  Bishop  and  established  a  government 
of  their  own;  and  the  peasants  rose  en  masse  to  emancipate 
themselves  from  the  yoke  of  serfdom.  But  the  world  was  not 
yet  ripe  for  a  transformation  of  its  political  condition  as  a 
consequence  of  ecclesiastical  reformation. — The  Catholic 
Church  also  was  essentially  influenced  by  the  Reformation: 
the  reins  of  discipline  were  drawn  tighter,  and  the  greatest 
occasions  of  scandal,  the  most  crying  abuses  were  abated.  Much 
of  the  intellectual  life  of  the  age  that  lay  outside  its  sphere, 
but  with  which  it  had  previously  maintained  friendly  relations, 
it  now  repudiated.  The  Church  came  to  a  dead  stop — "  hither- 
to and  no  farther !"  It  severed  itself  from  advancing  Science, 
from  philosophy  and  humanistic  literature ;  and  an  occasion  was 
soon  offered  of  declaring  its  enmity  to  the  scientific  pursuits 
of  the  period.  The  celebrated  Copernicus  had  discovered  that 
the  earth  and  the  planets  revolve  round  the  sun,  but  the  Church 
declared  against  this  addition  to  human  knowledge.  Galileo, 
who  had  published  a  statement  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue  of 
the  evidence  for  and  against  the  Copernican  discovery  (de- 
claring indeed  his  own  conviction  of  its  truth) ,  was  obliged  to 
crave  pardon  for  the  offence  on  his  knees.  The  Greek  litera- 
ture was  not  made  the  basis  of  culture;  education  was  in- 
trusted to  the  Jesuits.  Thus  does  the  Spirit  of  the  Catholic 
world  in  general  sink  behind  the  Spirit  of  the  Age. 

Here  an  important  question  solicits  investigation : — why  the 
Reformation  was  limited  to  certain  nations,  and  why  it  did 
not  permeate  the  whole  Catholic  world.  The  Reformation 
originated  in  Germany,  and  struck  firm  root  only  in  the  purely 
German  nations ;  outside  of  Germany  itself  it  established  itself 
in  Scandinavia  and  England.  But  the  Romanic  and  Sclavonic 
nations  kept  decidedly  aloof  from  it.  Even  South  Germany 
has  only  partially  adopted  the  Reformation — a  fact  which  is 
consistent  with  the  mingling  of  elements  which  is  the  general 
characteristic  of  its  nationality.     In  Swabia,  Franconia,  and  the 

Vol.  23  S— Classics 


420  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

Rhine  countries  there  were  many  convents  and  bishoprics,  as 
also  many  free  imperial  towns ;  and  the  reception  or  rejection 
of  the  Reformation  very  much  depended  on  the  influences 
which  these  ecclesiastical  and  civil  bodies  respectively  exer- 
cised ;  for  we  have  already  noticed  that  the  Reformation  was 
a  change  influencing  the  political  life  of  the  age  as  well  as  its 
religious  and  intellectual  condition.  We  must  further  observe, 
that  authority  has  much  greater  weight  in  determining  men's 
opinions  than  people  are  inclined  to  believe.  There  are  certain 
fundamental  principles  which  men  are  in  the  habit  of  receiving 
on  the  strength  of  authority ;  and  it  was  mere  authority  which 
in  the  case  of  many  countries  decided  for  or  against  the  adop- 
tion of  the  Reformation.  In  Austria,  in  Bavaria,  in  Bohemia, 
the  Reformation  had  already  made  great  progress ;  and  though 
it  is  commonly  said  that  when  truth  has  once  penetrated  men's 
souls,  it  cannot  be  rooted  out  again,  it  was  indisputably  stifled 
in  the  countries  in  question,  by  force  of  arms,  by  stratagem  or 
persuasion.  The  Sclavonic  nations  were  agricultural.  This 
condition  of  life  brings  with  it  the  relation  of  lord  and  serf. 
In  agriculture  the  agency  of  nature  predominates ;  human  in- 
dustry and  subjective  activity  are  on  the  whole  less  brought 
into  play  in  this  department  of  labor  than  elsewhere.  The 
Sclavonians  therefore  did  not  attain  so  quickly  or  readily  as 
other  nations  the  fundamental  sense  of  pure  individuality — the 
consciousness  of  Universality — that  which  we  designated  above 
as  "  political  power,"  and  could  not  share  the  benefits  of  dawn- 
ing freedom. — But  the  Romanic  nations  also — Italy,  Spain, 
Portugal,  and  in  part  France — were  not  imbued  with  the 
Reformed  doctrines.  Physical  force  perhaps  did  much  to  re- 
press them ;  yet  this  alone  would  not  be  sufficient  to  explain 
the  fact,  for  when  the  Spirit  of  a  Nation  craves  anything  no 
force  can  prevent  its  attaining  the  desired  object :  nor  can  it  be 
said  that  these  nations  were  deficient  in  culture ;  on  the  contrary, 
they  were  in  advance  of  the  Germans  in  this  respect.  It  was 
rather  owing  to  the  fundamental  character  of  these  nations, 
that  they  did  not  adopt  the  Reformation.  But  what  is  this 
peculiarity  of  character  which  hindered  the  attainment  of  Spir- 
itual Freedom  ?  We  answer :  the  pure  inwardness  of  the  Ger- 
man nation  was  the  proper  soil  for  the  emancipation  of  Spirit; 
the  Romanic  Nations,  on  the  contrary,  have  maintained  in  the 
very  depth  of  their  soul — in  their  Spiritual  Consciousness — the 


THE  MODERN   TIME  421 

principle  of  Disharmony:*  they  are  a  product  of  the  fusion  of 
Roman  and  German  blood,  and  still  retain  the  heterogeneity 
thence  resulting.  The  German  cannot  deny  that  the  French, 
the  Italians,  the  Spaniards,  possess  more  determination  of 
character — that  they  pursue  a  settled  aim  (even  though  it  have 
a  fixed  idea  for  its  object)  with  perfectly  clear  consciousness 
and  the  greatest  attention — that  they  carry  out  a  plan  with  great 
circumspection,  and  exhibit  the  greatest  decision  in  regard  to 
specific  objects.  The  French  call  the  Germans  entiers,  "  en- 
tire " — i.e.,  stubborn ;  they  are  also  strangers  to  the  whimsical 
originality  of  the  English.  The  Englishman  attaches  his  idea 
of  liberty  to  the  special  [as  opposed  to  the  general]  ;  he  does 
not  trouble  himself  about  the  Understanding  [logical  infer- 
ence], but  on  the  contrary  feels  himself  so  much  the  more  at 
liberty,  the  more  his  course  of  action  or  his  license  to  act  con- 
travenes the  Understanding — i.e.,  runs  counter  to  [logical 
inferences  or]  general  principles.  On  the  other  hand,  among 
the  Romanic  peoples  we  immediately  encounter  that  internal 
schism,  that  holding  fast  by  an  abstract  principle,  and  as  the 
counterpart  of  this,  an  absence  of  the  Totality  of  Spirit  and  sen- 
timent which  we  call  "  Heart " ;  there  is  not  that  meditative  in- 
troversion of  the  soul  upon  itself ; — in  their  inmost  being  they 
may  be  said  to  be  alienated  from  themselves  [abstract  principles 
carry  them  away] .  With  them  the  inner  life  is  a  region  whose 
depth  they  do  not  appreciate ;  for  it  is  given  over  "  bodily  "  to 
particular  [absorbing]  interests,  and  the  infinity  that  belongs 
to  Spirit  is  not  to  be  looked  for  there.  Their  inmost  being  is 
not  their  own.  They  leave  it  as  an  alien  and  indifferent  matter, 
and  are  glad  to  have  its  concerns  settled  for  them  by  another. 
That  other  to  which  they  leave  it  is  the  Church.  They  have 
indeed  something  to  do  with  it  themselves ;  but  since  that  which 
they  have  to  do  is  not  self-originated  and  self-prescribed,  not 
their  very  own,  they  are  content  to  leave  the  affair  to  be  set- 
tled in  a  superficial  way.  "  Eh  Wen"  said  Napoleon,  "  we  shall 
go  to  mass  again,  and  my  good  fellows  will  say :  *  That  is  the 
word  of  command ! '  "  This  is  the  leading  feature  in  the  char- 
acter of  these  nations — the  separation  of  the  religious  from 
the  secular  interest,  i.e.,  from  the  special  interest  of  individuali- 

*  The  acknowledgment  of  an  external  subjective  Principle  (*.  e.,  the  union  of 

power  authorized  to  command  the  entire  Objective   and    Subjective   freedom)    as 

soul  of  man  was  not  supplanted  in  their  the  supreme  authority, 
case  by  a  deference  to  Conscience  and 


422  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

ty ;  and  the  ground  of  this  separation  lies  in  their  inmost  soul, 
which  has  lost  its  independent  entireness  of  being,  its  pro- 
foundest  unity.  Catholicism  does  not  claim  the  essential  direc- 
tion of  the  Secular;  religion  remains  an  indifferent  matter  on 
the  one  side,  while  the  other  side  of  life  is  dissociated  from  it, 
and  occupies  a  sphere  exclusively  its  own.  Cultivated  French- 
men therefore  feel  an  antipathy  to  Protestantism  because  it 
seems  to  them  something  pedantic,  dull,  minutely  captious  in 
its  morality;  since  it  requires  that  Spirit  and  Thought  should 
be  directly  engaged  in  religion:  in  attending  mass  and  other 
ceremonies,  on  the  contrary,  no  exertion  of  thought  is  required, 
but  an  imposing  sensuous  spectacle  is  presented  to  the  eye, 
which  does  not  make  such  a  demand  on  one's  attention  as  en- 
tirely to  exclude  a  little  chat,  while  yet  the  duties  of  the  occasion 
are  not  neglected. 

We  spoke  above  of  the  relation  which  the  new  doctrine  sus- 
tained to  secular  life,  and  now  we  have  only  to  exhibit  that 
relation  in  detail.  The  development  and  advance  of  Spirit 
from  the  time  of  the  Reformation  onwards  consist  in  this, 
that  Spirit,  having  now  gained  the  consciousness  of  its  Free- 
dom, through  that  process  of  mediation  which  takes  place  be- 
tween man  and  God — that  is,  in  the  full  recognition  of  the 
objective  process  as  the  existence  [the  positive  and  definite 
manifestation]  of  the  Divine  essence — now  takes  it  up  and 
follows  it  out  in  building  up  the  edifice  of  secular  relations. 
That  harmony  [of  Objective  and  Subjective  Will]  which  has 
resulted  from  the  painful  struggles  of  History,  involves  the 
recognition  of  the  Secular  as  capable  of  being  an  embodiment 
of  Truth ;  whereas  it  had  been  formerly  regarded  as  evil  only, 
as  incapable  of  Good — the  latter  being  considered  essentially 
ultramundane.  It  is  now  perceived  that  Morality  and  Justice 
in  the  State  are  also  divine  and  commanded  by  God,  and  that  in 
point  of  substance  there  is  nothing  higher  or  more  sacred.  One 
inference  is  that  Marriage  is  no  longer  deemed  less  holy  than 
Celibacy.  Luther  took  a  wife  to  show  that  he  respected  "mar- 
riage, defying  the  calumnies  to  which  he  exposed  himself  by 
such  a  step.  It  was  his  duty  to  do  so,  as  it  was  also  to  eat 
meat  on  Fridays;  to  prove  that  such  things  are  lawful  and 
right,  in  opposition  to  the  imagined  superiority  of  abstinence. 
The  Family  introduces  man  to  community — to  the  relation  of 
interdependence  in  society;    and  this  union  is  a  moral  one: 


THE  MODERN  TIME  423 

while  on  the  other  hand  the  monks,  separated  from  the  sphere 
of  social  morality,  formed  as  it  were  the  standing  army  of 
the  Pope,  as  the  janizaries  formed  the  basis  of  the  Turkish 
power.  The  marriage  of  the  priests  entails  the  disappearance 
of  the  outward  distinction  between  laity  and  clergy. — Moreover 
the  repudiation  of  work  no  longer  earned  the  reputation  of 
sanctity ;  it  was  acknowledged  to  be  more  commendable  for  men 
to  rise  from  a  state  of  dependence  by  activity,  intelligence,  and 
industry,  and  make  themselves  independent.  It  is  more  conso- 
nant with  justice  that  he  who  has  money  should  spend  it  even  in 
luxuries,  than  that  he  should  give  it  away  to  idlers  and  beggars ; 
for  he  bestows  it  on  an  equal  number  of  persons  by  so  doing,  and 
these  must  at  any  rate  have  worked  diligently  for  it.  Industry, 
crafts  and  trades  now  have  their  moral  validity  recognized,  and 
the  obstacles  to  their  prosperity  which  originated  with  the 
Church,  have  vanished.  For  the  Church  had  pronounced  it  a 
sin  to  lend  money  on  interest :  but  the  necessity  of  so  doing  led 
to  the  direct  violation  of  her  injunctions.  The  Lombards  (a 
fact  which  accounts  for  the  use  of  the  term  "lombard"  in  French 
to  denote  a  loan-office),  and  particularly  the  House  of  Medici, 
advanced  money  to  princes  in  every  part  of  Europe.  The  third 
point  of  sanctity  in  the  Catholic  Church — blind  obedience,  was 
likewise  denuded  of  its  false  pretensions.  Obedience  to  the  laws 
of  the  State,  as  the  Rational  element  in  volition  and  action,  was 
made  the  principle  of  human  conduct.  In  this  obedience  man 
is  free,  for  all  that  is  demanded  is  that  the  Particular  should 
yield  to  the  General.  Man  himself  has  a  conscience ;  conse- 
quently the  subjection  required  of  him  is  a  free  allegiance.  This 
involves  the  possibility  of  a  development  of  Reason  and  Free- 
dom, and  of  their  introduction  into  human  relations ;  and  Rea- 
son and  the  Divine  commands  are  now  synonymous.  The 
Rational  no  longer  meets  with  contradiction  on  the  part  of  the 
religious  conscience ;  it  is  permitted  to  develop  itself  in  its  own 
sphere  without  disturbance,  without  being  compelled  to  resort 
to  force  in  defending  itself  against  an  adverse  power.  But  in 
the  Catholic  Church,  that  adverse  element  is  unconditionally 
sanctioned.  Where  the  Reformed  doctrine  prevails,  princes 
may  still  be  bad  governors,  but  they  are  no  longer  sanctioned 
and  solicited  thereto  by  the  promptings  of  their  religious  con- 
science. In  the  Catholic  Church  on  the  contrary,  it  is  nothing 
singular  for  the  conscience  to  be  found  in  opposition  to  the  laws 


424  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

of  the  State.  Assassinations  of  sovereigns,  conspiracies  against 
the  state,  and  the  like,  have  often  been  supported  and  carried  into 
execution  by  the  priests. 

This  harmony  between  the  State  and  the  Church  has  now  at- 
tained immediate  realization.*  We  have,  as  yet,  no  reconstruc- 
tion of  the  State,  of  the  system  of  jurisprudence,  etc.,  for 
thought  must  first  discover  the  essential  principle  of  Right. 
The  Laws  of:  Freedom  had  first  to  be  expanded  to  a  system  as 
deduced  from  an  absolute  principle  of  Right.  Spirit  does  not 
assume  this  complete  form  immediately  after  the  Reformation ; 
it  limits  itself  at  first  to  direct  and  simple  changes,  as  e.g.  the 
doing  away  with  conventual  establishments  and  episcopal  juris- 
diction, etc.  The  reconciliation  between  God  and  the  World  was 
limited  in  the  first  instance  to  an  abstract  form ;  it  was  not  yet 
expanded  into  a  system  by  which  the  moral  world  could  be  regu- 
lated. 

In  the  first  instance  this  reconciliation  must  take  place  in  the 
individual  soul,  must  be  realized  by  feeling ;  the  individual  must 
gain  the  assurance  that  the  Spirit  dwells  in  him — that,  in  the 
language  of  the  Church,  a  brokenness  of  heart  has  been  experi- 
enced, and  that  Divine  grace  has  entered  into  the  heart  thus 
broken.  By  Nature  man  is  not  what  he  ought  to  be;  only 
through  a  transforming  process  does  he  arrive  at  truth.  The 
general  and  speculative  aspect  of  the  matter  is  just  this — that 
the  human  heart  is  not  what  it  should  be.  It  was  then  required 
of  the  individual  that  he  should  know  what  he  is  in  himself ;  that 
is,  the  teaching  of  the  Church  insisted  upon  man's  becoming 
conscious  that  he  is  evil.  But  the  individual  is  evil  only  when 
the  Natural  manifests  itself  in  mere  sensual  desire — when  an  un- 
righteous will  presents  itself  in  its  untamed,  untrained,  violent 
shape ;  and  yet  it  is  required  that  such  a  person  should  know  that 
he  is  depraved,  and  that  the  good  Spirit  dwells  in  him ;  in  fact 
he  is  required  to  have  a  direct  consciousness  of  and  to  "experi- 
ence" that  which  was  presented  to  him  as  a  speculative  and  im- 
plicit truth.  The  Reconciliation  having,  then,  assumed  this  ab- 
stract form,  men  tormented  themselves  with  a  view  to  force  upon 
their  souls  the  consciousness  of  their  sinfulness  and  to  know 
themselves  as  evil.  The  most  simple  souls,  the  most  innocent 
natures  were  accustomed  in  painful  introspection  to  observe  the 

"That    is,    the    harmony    in    question   simply  exists;   its  development  and  re« 
suits  have  not  yet  manifested  themselves. 


THE  MODERN  TIME  425 

most  secret  workings  of  the  heart,  with  a  view  to  a  rigid  exam- 
ination of  them.  With  this  duty  was  conjoined  that  of  an  en- 
tirely opposite  description ;  it  was  required  that  man  should  at- 
tain the  consciousness  that  the  good  Spirit  dwells  in  him — that 
Divine  Grace  has  found  an  entrance  into  his  soul.  In  fact  the 
important  distinction  between  the  knowledge  of  abstract  truth 
and  the  knowledge  of  what  has  actual  existence  was  left  out 
of  sight.  Men  became  the  victims  of  a  tormenting  uncertainty 
as  to  whether  the  good  Spirit  has  an  abode  in  them,  and  it  was 
deemed  indispensable  that  the  entire  process  of  spiritual  trans- 
formation should  become  perceptible  to  the  individual  himself. 
An  echo  of  this  self-tormenting  process  may  still  be  traced  in 
much  of  the  religious  poetry  of  that  time ;  the  Psalms  of  David 
which  exhibit  a  similar  character  were  then  introduced  as  hymns 
into  the  ritual  of  Protestant  Churches.  Protestantism  took  this 
turn  of  minute  and  painful  introspection,  possessed  with  the 
conviction  of  the  importance  of  the  exercise,  and  was  for  a 
long  time  characterized  by  a  self-tormenting  disposition  and  an 
aspect  of  spiritual  wretchedness ;  which  in  the  present  day  has 
induced  many  persons  to  enter  the  Catholic  pale,  that  they  might 
exchange  this  inward  uncertainty  for  a  formal  broad  certainty 
based  on  the  imposing  totality  of  the  Church.  A  more  refined 
order  of  reflection  upon  the  character  of  human  actions  was  in- 
troduced into  the  Catholic  Church  also.  The  Jesuits  analyzed 
the  first  rudiments  of  volition  (velleitas)  with  as  painful  mi- 
nuteness as  was  displayed  in  the  pious  exercises  of  Protestant- 
ism ;  but  they  had  a  science  of  casuistry  which  enabled  them  td 
discover  a  good  reason  for  everything,  and  so  get  rid  of  the 
burden  of  guilt  which  thisfrigid  investigation  seemed  to  aggra- 
vate. 

With  this  was  connected  another  remarkable  phenomenon, 
common  to  the  Catholic  with  the  Protestant  World.  The  hu- 
man mind  was  driven  into  the  Inward,  the  Abstract,  and  the 
Religious  element  was  regarded  as  utterly  alien  to  the  secular. 
That  lively  consciousness  of  his  subjective  life  and  of  the  in- 
ward origin  of  his  volition  that  had  been  awakened  in  man, 
brought  with  it  the  belief  in  Evil,  as  a  vast  power  the  sphere  of 
whose  malign  dominion  is  the  Secular.  This  belief  presents  a 
parallelism  with  the  view  in  which  the  sale  of  Indulgences  orig- 
inated :  for  as  eternal  salvation  could  be  secured  for  money,  so 
by  paying  the  price  of  one's  salvation  through  a  compact  made 


426  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

with  the  Devil,  the  riches  of  the  world  and  the  unlimited  gratifi- 
cation of  desires  and  passions  could  be  secured.  Thus  arose 
that  famous  legend  of  Faust,  who  in  disgust  at  the  unsatisfac- 
tory character  of  speculative  science,  is  said  to  have  plunged 
into  the  world  and  purchased  all  its  glory  at  the  expense  of  his 
salvation.  Faust,  if  we  may  trust  the  poet,  had  the  enjoyment 
of  all  that  the  world  could  give,  in  exchange  for  his  soul's  weal ; 
but  those  poor  women  who  were  called  Witches  were  reputed 
to  get  nothing  more  by  the  bargain  than  the  gratification  of  a 
petty  revenge  by  making  a  neighbor's  cow  go  dry  or  giving  a 
child  the  measles.  But  in  awarding  punishment  it  was  not  the 
magnitude  of  the  injury  in  the  loss  of  the  milk  or  the  sickness  of 
the  child  that  was  considered ;  it  was  the  abstract  power  of  the 
Evil  One  in  them  that  was  attacked.  The  belief  in  this  abstract, 
special  power  whose  dominion  is  the  world — in  the  Devil  and 
his  devices — occasioned  an  incalculable  number  of  trials  for 
witchcraft  both  in  Catholic  and  Protestant  countries.  It  was 
impossible  to  prove  the  guilt  of  the  accused ;  they  were  only  sus- 
pected :  it  was  therefore  only  a  direct  knowledge  [one  not  medi- 
ated by  proofs]  on  which  this  fury  against  the  evil  principle 
professed  to  be  based.  It  was  indeed  necessary  to  have  recourse 
to  evidence,  but  the  basis  of  these  judicial  processes  was  simply 
the  belief  that  certain  individuals  were  possessed  by  the  power 
of  the  Evil  One.  This  delusion  raged  among  the  nations  in  the 
sixteenth  century  with  the  fury  of  a  pestilence.  The  main  im- 
pulse was  suspicion.  The  principle  of  suspicion  assumes  a  sim- 
ilarly terrible  shape  during  the  sway  of  the  Roman  Emperors, 
and  under  Robespierre's  Reign  of  Terror;  when  mere  disposi- 
tion, unaccompanied  by  any  overt  act  or  expression,  was  made 
an  object  of  punishment.  Among  the  Catholics,  it  was  the  Do- 
minicans to  whom  (as  was  the  Inquisition  in  all  its  branches) 
the  trials  for  witchcraft  were  intrusted.  Father  Spee,  a  noble 
Jesuit,  wrote  a  treatise  against  them  (he  is  also  the  author  of  a 
collection  of  fine  poems  bearing  the  title  of  "Tratsnachtigall,") 
giving  a  full  exposure  of  the  terrible  character  of  criminal  jus- 
tice in  proceedings  of  this  kind.  Torture,  which  was  only  to  be 
applied  once,  was  continued  until  a  confession  was  extorted.  If 
the  accused  fainted  under  the  torture  it  was  averred  that  the 
Devil  was  giving  them  sleep :  if  convulsions  supervened,  it  was 
said  that  the  Devil  was  laughing  in  them  ;  if  they  held  out  stead- 
fastly, the  Devil  was  supposed  to  give  them  power.     These  per- 


THE  MODERN  TIME  427 

secutions  spread  like  an  epidemic  sickness  through  Italy,  France, 
Spain  and  Germany.  The  earnest  remonstrances  of  enlight- 
ened men,  such  as  Spee  and  others,  already  produced  a  consider- 
able effect.  But  it  was  Thomasius,  a  Professor  of  Halle,  who 
first  opposed  this  prevalent  superstition  with  very  decided  suc- 
cess. The  entire  phenomenon  is  in  itself  most  remarkable  when 
we  reflect  that  we  have  not  long  been  quit  of  this  frightful  bar- 
barity (even  as  late  as  the  year  1780  a  witch  was  publicly  burned 
at  Glarus  in  Switzerland).  Among  the  Catholics  persecution 
was  directed  against  heretics  as  well  as  against  witches:  we 
might  say  indeed  that  they  were  placed  in  one  category ;  the  un- 
belief of  the  heretics  was  regarded  as  none  other  than  the  in- 
dwelling principle  of  Evil — a  possession  similar  to  the  other. 

Leaving  this  abstract  form  of  Subjectiveness  we  have  now 
to  consider  the  secular  side — the  constitution  of  the  State  and 
the  advance  of  Universality — the  recognition  of  the  universal 
laws  of  Freedom.     This  is  the  second  and  the  essential  point. 

Chapter  II. — Influence  of  the  Reformation  on  Political 
Development 

In  tracing  the  course  of  the  political  development  of  the 
period,  we  observe  in  the  first  place  the  consolidation  of  Mon- 
archy, and  the  Monarch  invested  with  an  authority  emanating 
from  the  State.  The  incipient  stage  in  the  rise  of  royal  power, 
and  the  commencement  of  that  unity  which  the  states  of  Europe 
attained,  belong  to  a  still  earlier  period.  While  these  changes 
were  going  forward,  the  entire  body  of  private  obligations  and 
rights  which  had  been  handed  down  from  the  Middle  Age,  still 
retained  validity.  Infinitely  important  is  this  form  of  private 
rights,  which  the  organic  constituents  of  the  executive  power  of 
the  State  have  assumed.  At  their  apex  we  find  a  fixed  and  posi- 
tive principle — the  exclusive  right  of  one  family  to  the  posses- 
sion of  the  throne,  and  the  hereditary  succession  of  sovereigns 
further  restricted  by  the  law  of  primogeniture.  This  gives  the 
State  an  immovable  centre.  The  fact  that  Germany  was  an 
elective  empire  prevented  its  being  consolidated  into  one  state ; 
and  for  the  same  reason  Poland  has  vanished  from  the  circle  of 
independent  states.  The  State  must  have  a  final  decisive  will : 
but  if  an  individual  is  to  be  the  final  deciding  power,  he  must 
be  so  in  a  direct  and  natural  way,  not  as  determined  by  choice 


428  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

and  theoretic  views,  etc.  Even  among  the  free  Greeks  the 
oracle  was  the  external  power  which  decided  their  policy  on 
critical  occasions ;  here  birth  is  the  oracle — something  indepen- 
dent of  any  arbitrary  volition.  But  the  circumstance  that  the 
highest  station  in  a  monarchy  is  assigned  to  a  family,  seems  to 
indicate  that  the  sovereignty  is  the  private  property  of  that  fam- 
ily. As  such  that  sovereignty  would  seem  to  be  divisible ;  but 
since  the  idea  of  division  of  power  is  opposed  to  the  principle  of 
the  state,  the  rights  of  the  monarch  and  his  family  required  to 
be  more  strictly  defined.  Sovereign  possession  is  not  a  pecu- 
lium  of  the  individual  ruler,  but  is  consigned  to  the  dynastic 
family  as  a  trust ;  and  the  estates  of  the  realm  possess  security, 
that  that  trust  shall  be  faithfully  discharged,  for  they  have  to 
guard  the  unity  of  the  body  politic.  Thus,  then,  royal  posses- 
sion no  longer  denotes  a  kind  of  private  property,  private  pos- 
session of  estates,  demesnes,  jurisdiction,  etc.,  but  has  become 
a  State-property — a  function  pertaining  to  and  involved  with 
the  State. 

Equally  important,  and  connected  with  that  just  noticed,  is 
the  change  of  executive  powers,  functions,  duties  and  rights, 
which  naturally  belong  to  the  State,  but  which  had  become  pri- 
vate property  and  private  contracts  or  obligations — into  pos- 
session conferred  by  the  State.  The  rights  of  seigneurs  and 
barons  were  annulled,  and  they  were  obliged  to  content  them- 
selves with  official  positions  in  the  State.  This  transformation 
of  the  rights  of  vassals  into  official  functions  took  place  in  the 
several  kingdoms  in  various  ways.  In  France,  e.g.,  the  great 
Barons,  who  were  governors  of  provinces,  who  could  claim  such 
offices  as  a  matter  of  right,  and  who  like  the  Turkish  Pashas, 
maintained  a  body  of  troops  with  the  revenues  thence  derived — 
troops  which  they  might  at  any  moment  bring  into  the  field 
against  the  King — were  reduced  to  the  position  of  mere  landed 
proprietors  or  court  nobility,  and  those  Pashalics  became  offices 
held  under  the  government ;  or  the  nobility  were  employed  as 
officers — generals  of  the  army,  an  army  belonging  to  the  State. 
In  this  aspect  the  origination  of  standing  armies  is  so  important 
an  event;  for  they  supply  the  monarchy  with  an  independent 
force  and  are  as  necessary  for  the  security  of  the  central  author* 
ity  against  the  rebellion  of  the  subject  individuals  as  for  the  de- 
fence of  the  state  against  foreign  enemies.  The  fiscal  system 
indeed  had  not  as  yet  assumed  a  systematic  character — the  rev- 


THE  MODERN  TIME  429 

enue  being  derived  from  customs,  taxes  and  tolls  in  countless 
variety,  besides  the  subsidies  and  contributions  paid  by  the  es- 
tates of  the  realm;  in  return  for  which  the  right  of  present- 
ing a  statement  of  grievances  was  conceded  to  them,  as  is  now 
the  case  in  Hungary. — In  Spain  the  spirit  of  chivalry  had  as- 
sumed a  very  beautiful  and  noble  form.  This  chivalric  spirit, 
this  knightly  dignity,  degraded  to  a  mere  inactive  sentiment  of 
honor,  has  attained  notoriety  as  the  Spanish  grandezza.  The 
Grandees  were  no  longer  allowed  to  maintain  troops  of  their 
own,  and  were  also  withdrawn  from  the  command  of  the  armies ; 
destitute  of  power  they  had  to  content  themselves  as  private  per- 
sons with  an  empty  title.  But  the  means  by  which  the  royal 
power  in  Spain  was  consolidated,  was  the  Inquisition.  This, 
which  was  established  for  the  persecution  of  those  who  secretly 
adhered  to  Judaism,  and  of  Moors  and  heretics,  soon  assumed 
a  political  character,  being  directed  against  the  enemies  of  the 
State.  Thus  the  Inquisition  confirmed  the  despotic  power  of 
the  King :  it  claimed  supremacy  even  over  bishops  and  arch- 
bishops, and  could  cite  them  before  its  tribunal.  The  frequent 
confiscation  of  property — one  of  the  most  customary  penalties — 
tended  to  enrich  the  treasury  of  the  State.  Moreover,  the  In- 
quisition was  a  tribunal  which  took  cognizance  of  mere  sus- 
picion ;  and  while  it  consequently  exercised  a  fearful  authority 
over  the  clergy,  it  had  a  peculiar  support  in  the  national  pride. 
For  every  Spaniard  wished  to  be  considered  Christian  by  de- 
scent, and  this  species  of  vanity  fell  in  with  the  views  and  ten- 
dency of  the  Inquisition.  Particular  provinces  of  the  Spanish 
monarchy,  as  e.g.  Aragon,  still  retained  many  peculiar  rights 
and  privileges;  but  the  Spanish  Kings  from  Philip  II  down- 
wards proceeded  to  suppress  them  altogether. 

It  would  lead  us  too  far  to  pursue  in  detail  the  process  of  the 
depression  of  the  aristocracy  in  the  several  states  of  Europe. 
The  main  scope  of  this  depressing  process  was,  as  already  stated, 
the  curtailment  of  the  private  rights  of  the  feudal  nobility,  and 
the  transformation  of  their  seigneurial  authority  into  an  official 
position  in  connection  with  the  State.  This  change  was  in  the 
interest  of  both  the  King  and  the  People.  The  powerful  barons 
seemed  to  constitute  an  intermediate  body  charged  with  the  de- 
fence of  liberty ;  but  properly  speaking,  it  was  only  their  own 
privileges  which  they  maintained  against  the  royal  power  on 
the  one  hand  and  the  citizens  on  the  other  hand.    The  barons 


43° 


PHILOSOPHY   OF   HISTORY 


of  England  extorted  Magna  Charta  from  the  King ;  but  the  citi- 
zens gained  nothing  by  it,  on  the  contrary  they  remained  in  their 
former  condition.  Polish  Liberty  too,  meant  nothing  more 
than  the  freedom  of  the  barons  in  contraposition  to  the  King, 
the  nation  being  reduced  to  a  state  of  absolute  serfdom.  When 
liberty  is  mentioned,  we  must  always  be  careful  to  observe 
whether  it  is  not  really  the  assertion  of  private  interests  which 
is  thereby  designated.  For  although  the  nobility  were  deprived 
of  their  sovereign  power,  the  people  were  still  oppressed  in  con- 
sequence of  their  absolute  dependence,  their  serfdom,  and  sub- 
jection to  aristocratic  jurisdiction ;  and  they  were  partly  de- 
clared utterly  incapable  of  possessing  property,  partly  subjected 
to  a  condition  of  bond-service  which  did  not  permit  of  their 
freely  selling  the  products  of  their  industry.  The  supreme  in- 
terest of  emancipation  from  this  condition  concerned  the  power 
of  the  State  as  well  as  the  subjects — that  emancipation  which 
now  gave  them  as  citizens  the  character  of  free  individuals,  and 
determined  that  what  was  to  be  performed  for  the  Common- 
wealth should  be  a  matter  of  just  allotment,  not  of  mere  chance. 
The  aristocracy  of  possession  maintains  that  possession  against 
both — viz.  against  the  power  of  the  State  at  large  and  against 
individuals.  But  the  aristocracy  have  a  position  assigned  them, 
as  the  support  of  the  throne,  as  occupied  and  active  on  behalf 
of  the  State  and  the  common  weal,  and  at  the  same  time  as  main- 
taining the  freedom  of  the  citizens.  This  in  fact  is  the  pre- 
rogative of  that  class  which  forms  the  link  between  the  Sov- 
ereign and  the  People — to  undertake  to  discern  and  to  give  the 
first  impulse  to  that  which  is  intrinsically  Rational  and  Univer- 
sal ;  and  this  recognition  of  and  occupation  with  the  Universal 
must  take  the  place  of  positive  personal  right.  This  subjection 
to  the  Head  of  the  State  of  that  intermediate  power  which  laid 
claim  to  positive  authority  was  now  accomplished,  but  this  did 
not  involve  the  emancipation  of  the  subject  class.  This  took 
place  only  at  a  later  date,  when  the  idea  of  right  in  and  for  it- 
self arose  in  men's  minds.  Then  the  sovereigns  relying  on 
their  respective  peoples,  vanquished  the  caste  of  unrighteous- 
ness ;  but  where  they  united  with  the  barons,  or  where  the  lat- 
ter maintained  their  freedom  against  the  kings,  those  positive 
rights  or  rather  wrongs  continued. 

We  observe  also  as  an  essential  feature  now  first  presenting 
itself  in  the  political  aspect  of  the  time,  a  connected  system  of 


THE  MODERN  TIME  431 

States  and  a  relation  of  States  to  each  other.  They  became  in- 
volved in  various  wars:  the  Kings  having  enlarged  their  po- 
litical authority,  now  turn  their  attention  to  foreign  lands,  in- 
sisting upon  claims  of  all  kinds.  The  aim  and  real  interest  of 
the  wars  of  the  period  is  invariably  conquest. 

Italy  especially  had  become  such  an  object  of  desire,  and  was 
a  prey  to  the  rapacity  of  the  French,  the  Spaniards,  and  at  a 
later  date,  of  the  Austrians.  In  fact  absolute  disintegration 
and  dismemberment  has  always  been  an  essential  feature  in  the 
national  character  of  the  inhabitants  of  Italy,  in  ancient  as  well 
as  in  modern  times.  Their  stubborn  individuality  was  ex- 
changed for  a  union  the  result  of  force,  under  the  Roman  do- 
minion ;  but  as  soon  as  this  bond  was  broken,  the  original  char- 
acter reappeared  in  full  strength.  In  later  times,  as  if  finding 
in  them  a  bond  of  union  otherwise  impossible — after  having  es- 
caped from  a  selfishness  of  the  most  monstrous  order  and  which 
displayed  its  perverse  nature  in  crimes  of  every  description — 
the  Italians  attained  a  taste  for  the  Fine  Arts:  thus  their  civili- 
zation, the  mitigation  of  their  selfishness,  reached  only  the  Grade 
of  Beauty,  not  that  of  Rationality — the  higher  unity  of  Thought. 
Consequently,  even  in  poetry  and  song  the  Italian  nature  is  dif- 
ferent from  ours.  Improvisation  characterizes  the  genius  of  the 
Italians ;  they  pour  out  their  very  souls  in  Art  and  the  ecstatic 
enjoyment  of  it.  Enjoying  a  naturel  so  imbued  with  Art,  the 
State  must  be  an  affair  of  comparative  indifference,  a  merely 
casual  matter  to  the  Italians.  But  we  have  to  observe  also  that 
the  wars  in  which  Germany  engaged,  were  not  particularly  hon- 
orable to  it :  it  allowed  Burgundy,  Lorraine,  Alsace,  and  other 
parts  of  the  empire  to  be  wresteo!  from  it.  From  these  wars  be- 
tween the  various  political  powers  there  arose  common  inter- 
ests, and  the  object  of  that  community  of  interest  was  the  main- 
tenance of  severalty — the  preservation  to  the  several  States  of 
their  independence — in  fact  the  "  balance  of  power."  The  mo- 
tive to  this  was  of  a  decidedly  "practical"  kind,  viz.  the  protec- 
tion of  the  several  States  from  conquest.  The  union  of  the 
States  of  Europe  as  the  means  of  shielding  individual  States 
from  the  violence  of  the  powerful — the  preservation  of  the  bal- 
ance of  power,  had  now  taken  the  place  of  that  general  aim  of 
the  elder  time,  the  defence  of  Christendom,  whose  centre  was 
the  Papacy.  This  new  political  motive  was  necessarily  accom- 
panied by  a  diplomatic  condition — one  in  which  all  the  mem- 


432  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

bers  of  the  great  European  system,  however  distant,  felt  an  in- 
terest in  that  which  happened  to  any  one  of  them.  Diplomatic 
policy  had  been  brought  to  the  greatest  refinement  in  Italy,  and 
was  thence  transmitted  to  Europe  at  large.  Several  princes  in 
succession  seemed  to  threaten  the  stability  of  the  balance  of 
power  in  Europe.  When  this  combination  of  States  was  just 
commencing,  Charles  V  was  aiming  at  universal  monarchy; 
for  he  was  Emperor  of  Germany  and  King  of  Spain  to  boot :  the 
Netherlands  and  Italy  acknowledged  his  sway,  and  the  whole 
wealth  of  America  flowed  into  his  coffers.  With  this  enor- 
mous power,  which,  like  the  contingencies  of  fortune  in  the  case 
of  private  property,  had  been  accumulated  by  the  most  felicitous 
combinations  of  political  dexterity — among  other  things  by 
marriage, — but  which  was  destitute  of  an  internal  and  reliable 
bond,  he  was  nevertheless  unable  to  gain  any  advantage  over 
France,  or  even  over  the  German  princes ;  nay  he  was  even  com- 
pelled to  a  peace  by  Maurice  of  Saxony.  His  whole  life  was 
spent  in  suppressing  disturbances  in  all  parts  of  his  empire  and 
in  conducting  foreign  wars.  The  balance  of  power  in  Europe 
was  similarly  threatened  by  Louis  XIV.  Through  that 
depression  of  the  grandees  of  his  kingdom  which  Richelieu 
and  after  him  Mazarin  had  accomplished,  he  had  become  an 
absolute  sovereign.  France,  too,  had  the  consciousness  of  its 
intellectual  superiority  in  a  refinement  of  culture  surpassing 
anything  of  which  the  rest  of  Europe  could  boast.  The  pre- 
tensions of  Louis  were  founded  not  on  extent  of  dominion,  (as 
was  the  case  with  Charles  V)  so  much  as  on  that  culture  which 
distinguished  his  people,  and  which  at  that  time  made  its  way 
everywhere  with  the  language  that  embodied  it,  and  was  the 
object  of  universal  admiration:  they  could  therefore  plead  a 
higher  justification  than  those  of  the  German  Emperor.  But 
the  very  rock  on  which  the  vast  military  resources  of  Philip  II 
had  already  foundered — the  heroic  resistance  of  the  Dutch — 
proved  fatal  also  to  the  ambitious  schemes  of  Louis.  Charles 
XII  also  presented  a  remarkably  menacing  aspect;  but  his 
ambition  had  a  Quixotic  tinge  and  was  less  sustained  by  in- 
trinsic vigor.  Through  all  these  storms  the  nations  of  Europe 
succeeded  in  maintaining  their  individuality  and  independence. 
An  external  relation  in  which  the  States  of  Europe  had  an 
interest  in  common,  was  that  sustained  to  the  Turks — the  ter- 
rible power  which  threatened  to  overwhelm  Europe  from  the 


THE   MODERN   TIME 


433 


East.  The  Turks  of  that  day  had  still  a  sound  and  vigorous 
nationality,  whose  power  was  based  on  conquest,  and  which 
was  therefore  engaged  in  constant  warfare,  or  at  least  admitted 
only  a' temporary  suspension  of  arms.  As  was  the  case  among 
the  Franks,  the  conquered  territories  were  divided  among  their 
warriors  as  personal,  not  heritable  possessions;  when  in  later 
times  the  principle  of  hereditary  succession  was  adopted,  the 
national  vigor  was  shattered.  The  flower  of  the  Osman  force, 
the  Janizaries,  were  the  terror  of  the  Europeans.  Their  ranks 
were  recruited  from  a  body  of  Christian  boys  of  handsome  and 
vigorous  proportions,  brought  together  chiefly  by  means  of 
annual  conscriptions  among  the  Greek  subjects  of  the  Porte, 
strictly  educated  in  the  Moslem  faith,  and  exercised  in  arms 
from  early  youth.  Without  parents,  without  brothers  or  sis- 
ters, without  wives,  they  were,  like  the  monks,  an  altogether 
isolated  and  terrible  corps.  The  Eastern  European  powers 
were  obliged  to  make  common  cause  against  the  Turks — viz. : 
Austria,  Hungary,  Venice  and  Poland.  The  battle  of  Lepanto 
saved  Italy,  and  perhaps  all  Europe,  from  a  barbarian  inun- 
dation. 

An  event  of  special  importance  following  in  the  train  of  the 
Reformation  was  the  struggle  of  the  Protestant  Church  for 
political  existence.  The  Protestant  Church,  even  in  its  original 
aspect,  was  too  intimately  connected  with  secular  interests  not 
to  occasion  secular  complications  and  political  contentions  re- 
specting political  possession.  The  subjects  of  Catholic  princes 
become  Protestant,  have  and  make  claims  to  ecclesiastical  prop- 
erty, change  the  nature  of  the  tenure,  and  repudiate  or  decline 
the  discharge  of  those  ecclesiastical  functions  to  whose  due  per- 
formance the  emoluments  are  attached  (jura  stolce).  More- 
over a  Catholic  government  is  bound  to  be  the  brachium  seculare 
of  the  Church ;  the  Inquisition,  e.g.  never  put  a  man  to  death, 
but  simply  declared  him  a  heretic,  as  a  kind  of  jury ;  he  was 
then  punished  according  to  civil  laws.  Again,  innumerable 
occasions  of  offence  and  irritation  originated  with  processions 
and  feasts,  the  carrying  of  the  Host  through  the  streets,  with- 
drawals from  convents,  etc.  Still  more  excitement  would  be 
felt  when  an  Archbishop  of  Cologne  attempted  to  make  his 
archiepiscopate  a  secular  princedom  for  himself  and  his  family. 
Their  confessors  made  it  a  matter  of  conscience  with  Catholic 
princes  to  wrest  estates  that  had  been  the  property  of  the 


434  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

Church  out  of  the  hands  of  the  heretics.  In  Germany,  how- 
ever, the  condition  of  things  was  favorable  to  Protestantism 
in  as  far  as  the  several  territories  which  had  been  imperial  fiefs, 
had  become  independent  principalities.  But  in  countries  like 
Austria,  the  princes  were  indifferent  to  Protestants,  or  even 
hostile  to  them ;  and  in  France  they  were  not  safe  in  the  exer- 
cise of  their  religion  except  as  protected  by  fortresses.  War 
was  the  indispensable  preliminary  to  the  security  of  Protes- 
tants; for  the  question  was  not  one  of  simple  conscience,  but 
involved  decisions  respecting  public  and  private  property  which 
had  been  taken  possession  of  in  contravention  of  the  rights  of 
the  Church,  and  whose  restitution  it  demanded.  A  condition 
of  absolute  mistrust  supervened;  absolute,  because  mistrust 
bound  up  with  the  religious  conscience  was  its  root.  The  Prot- 
estant princes  and  towns  formed  at  that  time  a  feeble  union, 
and  the  defensive  operations  they  conducted  were  much  feebler 
still.  After  they  had  been  worsted,  Maurice  the  Elector  of 
Saxony,  by  an  utterly  unexpected  and  adventurous  piece  of 
daring,  extorted  a  peace,  itself  of  doubtful  interpretation,  and 
which  left  the  real  sources  of  embitterment  altogether  un- 
touched. It  was  necessary  to  fight  out  the  battle  from  the  very 
beginning.  This  took  place  in  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  in  which 
first  Denmark  and  then  Sweden  undertook  the  cause  of  free- 
dom. The  former  was  compelled  to  quit  the  field,  but  the  latter 
under  Gustavus  Adolphus — that  hero  of  the  North  of  glorious 
memory — played  a  part  which  was  so  much  the  more  brilliant 
inasmuch  as  it  began  to  wage  war  with  the  vast  force  of  the 
Catholics,  alone — without  the  help  of  the  Protestant  states  of 
the  Empire.  The  powers  of  Europe,  with  a  few  exceptions, 
precipitate  themselves  on  Germany — flowing  back  towards  it 
as  to  the  fountain  from  which  they  had  originally  issued,  and 
where  now  the  right  of  inwardness  that  has  come  to  manifest 
itself  in  the  sphere  of  religion,  and  that  of  internal  independence 
and  severalty  is  to  be  fought  out.  The  struggle  ends  without 
an  Ideal  result — without  having  attained  the  consciousness  of 
a  principle  as  an  intellectual  concept — in  the  exhaustion  of  all 
parties,  in  a  scene  of  utter  desolation,  where  all  the  contending 
forces  have  been  wrecked ;  it  issues  in  letting  parties  simply 
take  their  course  and  maintain  their  existence  on  the  basis  of 
external  power.  The  issue  is  in  fact  exclusively  of  a  political 
nature. 


THE  MODERN   TIME  435 

In  England  also,  war  was  indispensable  to  the  establishment 
of  the  Protestant  Church:  the  struggle  was  in  this  case  di- 
rected against  the  sovereigns,  who  were  secretly  attached  to 
Catholicism  because  they  found  the  principle  of  absolute  sway 
confirmed  by  its  doctrines.  The  fanaticized  people  rebelled 
against  the  assumption  of  absolute  sovereign  power — importing 
that  Kings  are  responsible  to  God  alone  {i.e.  to  the  Father  Con- 
fessor)— and  in  opposition  to  Catholic  externality,  unfurled 
the  banner  of  extreme  subjectivity  in  Puritanism — a  principle 
which,  developing  itself  in  the  real  world,  presents  an  aspect 
partly  of  enthusiastic  elevation,  partly  of  ridiculous  incongruity. 
The  enthusiasts  of  England,  like  those  of  Minister,  were  for 
having  the  State  governed  directly  by  the  fear  of  God;  the 
soldiery  sharing  the  same  fanatical  views  prayed  while  they 
fought  for  the  cause  they  had  espoused.  But  a  military  leader 
now  has  the  physical  force  of  the  country  and  consequently  the 
government  in  his  hands :  for  in  the  State  there  must  be  gov- 
ernment, and  Cromwell  knew  what  governing  is.  He,  there- 
fore, made  himself  ruler,  and  sent  that  praying  parliament 
about  their  business.  With  his  death  however  his  right  to 
authority  vanished  also,  and  the  old  dynasty  regained  posses- 
sion of  the  throne.  Catholicism,  we  may  observe,  is  commended 
to  the  support  of  princes  as  promoting  the  security  of  their  gov- 
ernment— a  position  supposed  to  be  particularly  manifest  if  the 
Inquisition  be  connected  with  the  government ;  the  former  con- 
stituting the  bulwark  of  the  latter.  But  such  a  security  is  based 
on  a  slavish  religious  obedience,  and  is  limited  to  those  grades 
of  human  development  in  which  the  political  constitution  and 
the  whole  legal  system  still  rest  on  the  basis  of  actual  positive 
possession ;  but  if  the  constitution  and  laws  are  to  be  founded 
on  a  veritable  eternal  Right,  then  security  is  to  be  found  only 
in  the  Protestant  religion,  in  whose  principle  Rational  Sub- 
jective Freedom  also  attains  development.  The  Dutch  too  of- 
fered a  vigorous  opposition  to  the  Catholic  principle  as  bound 
up  with  the  Spanish  sovereignty.  Belgium  was  still  attached 
to  the  Catholic  religion  and  remained  subject  to  Spain :  on  the 
contrary,  the  northern  part  of  the  Netherlands — Holland — 
stood  its  ground  with  heroic  valor  against  its  oppressors.  The 
trading  class,  the  guilds  and  companies  of  marksmen  formed 
a  militia  whose  heroic  courage  was  more  than  a  match  for  the 
then  famous  Spanish  infantry.    Just  as  the  Swiss  peasants  had 


436  PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 

resisted  the  chivalry  of  Austria,  so  here  the  trading  cities  held 
out  against  disciplined  troops.  During  this  struggle  on  the 
Continent  itself,  the  Dutch  fitted  out  fleets  and  deprived  the 
Spaniards  of  part  of  their  colonial  possessions,  from  which 
all  their  wealth  was  derived.  As  independence  was  secured  to 
Holland  in  its  holding  to  the  Protestant  principle,  so  that  of 
Poland  was  lost  through  its  endeavor  to  suppress  that  principle 
in  the  case  of  dissidents. 

Through  the  Peace  of  Westphalia  the  Protestant  Church 
had  been  acknowledged  as  an  independent  one — to  the  great 
confusion  and  humiliation  of  Catholicism.  This  peace  has 
often  passed  for  the  palladium  of  Germany,  as  having  estab- 
lished its  political  constitution.  But  this  constitution  was  in 
fact  a  confirmation  of  the  particular  rights  of  the  countries  into 
which  Germany  had  been  broken  up.  It  involves  no  thought, 
no  conception  of  the  proper  aim  of  a  state.  We  should  consult 
"  Hippolytus  a  lapide  "  (a  book  which,  written  before  the  con- 
clusion of  the  peace,  had  a  great  influence  on  the  condition  of 
the  Empire)  if  we  would  become  acquainted  with  the  character 
of  that  German  freedom  of  which  so  much  is  made.  In  the 
peace  in  question  the  establishment  of  a  complete  particularity, 
the  determination  of  all  relations  on  the  principle  of  private 
right  is  the  object  manifestly  contemplated — a  constituted  an- 
archy, such  as  the  world  had  never  before  seen ; — i.e.  the  posi- 
tion that  an  Empire  is  properly  a  unity,  a  totality,  a  state,  while 
yet  all  relations  are  determined  so  exclusively  on  the  principle 
of  private  right  that  the  privilege  of  all  the  constituent  parts 
of  that  Empire  to  act  for  themselves  contra  rily  to  the  interest 
of  the  whole,  or  to  neglect  that  which  its  interest  demands  and 
which  is  even  required  by  law — is  guaranteed  and  secured  by 
the  most  inviolable  sanctions.  Immediately  after  this  settle- 
ment, it  was  shown  what  the  German  Empire  was  as  a  state 
in  relation  to  other  states:  it  waged  ignominious  wars  with 
the  Turks,  for  deliverance  from  whom  Vienna  was  indebted 
to  Poland.  Still  more  ignominious  was  its  relation  to  France, 
which  took  possession  in  time  of  peace  of  free  cities,  the  bul- 
warks of  Germany,  and  of  flourishing  provinces,  and  retained 
them  undisturbed. 

This  constitution,  which  completely  terminated  the  career 
of  Germany  as  an  Empire,  was  chiefly  the  work  of  Richelieu, 
by  whose  assistance — Romish  Cardinal  though  he  was — relig- 


THE  MODERN  TIME  437 

ious  freedom  in  Germany  was  preserved.  Richelieu,  with  a 
view  to  further  the  interests  of  the  State  whose  affairs  he  super- 
intended, adopted  the  exact  opposite  of  that  policy  which  he 
promoted  in  the  case  of  its  enemies ;  for  he  reduced  the  latter 
to  political  impotence  by  ratifying  the  political  independence 
of  the  several  parts  of  the  Empire,  while  at  home  he  destroyed 
the  independence  of  the  Protestant  party.  His  fate  has  con- 
sequently resembled  that  of  many  great  statesmen,  inasmuch 
as  he  has  been  cursed  by  his  countrymen,  while  his  enemies  have 
looked  upon  the  work  by  which  he  ruined  them  as  the  most 
sacred  goal  of  their  desires — the  consummation  of  their  rights 
and  liberties. 

The  result  of  the  struggle  therefore  was  the  forcibly  achieved 
and  now  politically  ratified  coexistence  of  religious  parties, 
forming  political  communities  whose  relations  are  determined 
according  to  prescriptive  principles. of  civil  or  [rather,  for  such 
their  true  nature  was]  of  private  right. 

The  Protestant  Church  increased  and  so  perfected  the  sta- 
bility of  its  political  existence  by  the  fact  that  one  of  the  states 
which  had  adopted  the  principles  of  the  Reformation  raised 
itself  to  the  position  of  an  independent  European  power.  This 
power  was  destined  to  start  into  a  new  life  with  Protestantism : 
Prussia,  viz.,  which  making  its  appearance  at  the  end  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  was  indebted,  if  not  for  origination,  yet 
certainly  for  the  consolidation  of  its  strength,  to  Frederick  the 
Great ;  and  the  Seven  Years'  War  was  the  struggle  by  which 
that  consolidation  was  accomplished.  Frederick  II  demon- 
strated the  independent  vigor  of  his  power  by  resisting  that 
of  almost  all  Europe — the  union  of  its  leading  states.  He  ap- 
peared as  the  hero  of  Protestantism,  and  that  not  individually 
merely,  like  Gustavus  Adolphus,  but  as  the  ruler  of  a  state. 
The  Seven  Years'  War  was  indeed  in  itself  not  a  war  of  re- 
ligion ;  but  it  was  so  in  view  of  its  ultimate  issues,  and  in  the 
disposition  of  the  soldiers  as  well  as  of  the  potentates  under 
whose  banner  they  fought.  The  Pope  consecrated  the  sword 
of  Field-Marshal  Daun,  and  the  chief  object  which  the  Allied 
Powers  proposed  to  themselves  was  the  crushing  of  Prussia 
as  the  bulwark  of  the  Protestant  Church.  But  Frederick  the 
Great  not  only  made  Prussia  one  of  the  great  powers  of  Europe 
as  a  Protestant  power,  but  was  also  a  philosophical  King — an 
altogether  peculiar  and  unique  phenomenon  in  modern  times. 


438  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

There  had  been  English  Kings  who  were  subtle  theologians, 
contending  for  the  principle  of  absolutism:  Frederick  on  the 
contrary  took  up  the  Protestant  principle  in  its  secular  aspect; 
and  though  he  was  by  no  means  favorable  to  religious  contro- 
versies, and  did  not  side  with  one  party  or  the  other,  he  had  the 
consciousness  of  Universality,  which  is  the  profoundest  depth 
to  which  Spirit  can  attain,  and  is  Thought  conscious  of  its  own 
inherent  power. 


Chapter  III. — The  Eclaircissement  and  Revolution* 

Protestantism  had  introduced  the  principle  of  Subjectivity, 
importing  religious  emancipation  and  inward  harmony,  but 
accompanying  this  with  the  belief  in  Subjectivity  as  Evil,  and 
in  a  power  [adverse  to  man's  highest  interests]  whose  embodi- 
ment is  "  the  World."  Within  the  Catholic  pale  also,  the  casu- 
istry of  the  Jesuits  brought  into  vogue  interminable  investiga- 
tions, as  tedious  and  wire-drawn  as  those  in  which  the  scholastic 
theology  delighted,  respecting  the  subjective  spring  of  the  Will 
and  the  motives  that  affect  it.  This  Dialectic,  which  unsettles 
all  particular  judgments  and  opinions,  transmuting  the  Evil 
into  Good  and  Good  into  Evil,  left  at  last  nothing  remaining  but 
the  mere  action  of  subjectivity  itself,  the  Abstractum  of  Spirit 
— Thought.  Thought  contemplates  everything  under  the  form 
of  Uniyersality,  and  is  consequently  the  impulsion  towards  and 
production  of  the  Universal.  In  that  elder  scholastic  theology 
the  real  subject-matter  of  investigation — the  doctrine  of  the 
Church — remained  an  ultramundane  affair;  in  the  Protestant 
theology  also  Spirit  still  sustained  a  relation  to  the  Ultramun- 
dane ;  for  on  the  one  side  we  have  the  will  of  the  individual — 
the  Spirit  of  Man — I,  myself,  and  on  the  other  the  Grace  of  God, 
the  Holy  Ghost;  and  so  in  the  Wicked,  the  Devil.  But  in 
Thought,  Self  moves  within  the  limits  of  its  own  sphere ;  that 
with  which  it  is  occupied — its  objects  are  as  absolutely  present 
to  it  [as  they  were  distinct  and  separate  in  the  intellectual  grade 
above  mentioned]  ;    for  in  thinking  I  must  elevate  the  object 

*  There  is  no  current  term  in  English  fying  the  members  of  an  imaginary  con- 
denoting  that  great  intellectual  move-  federacy  for  propagating  the  open  se- 
ment  which  dates  from  the  first  quarter  cret  of  the  day),  might  suggest  '  Mlumi- 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  which,  if  nation,"  as  an  equivalent  for  the  German 
not  the  chief  cause,  was  certainly  the  "  Aufklarung  ";  but  the  French  "Eclair- 
guiding  genius  of  the  French  Revolu-  cissement  "  conveys  a  more  specific  idea, 
tion.     The    word     "  Illuminati "    (signi-  —J.  S. 


THE  MODERN  TIME  439 

to  Universality.*  This  is  utter  and  absolute  Freedom,  for  the 
pure  Ego,  like  pure  Light,  is  with  itself  alone  [is  not  involved 
with  any  alien  principle]  ;  thus  that  which  is  diverse  from  itself, 
sensuous  or  spiritual,  no  longer  presents  an  object  of  dread,  for 
in  contemplating  such  diversity  it  is  inwardly  free  and  can 
freely  confront  it.  A  practical  interest  makes  use  of,  consumes 
the  objects  offered  to  it :  a  theoretical  interest  calmly  contem- 
plates them,  assured  that  in  themselves  they  present  no  alien 
element. — Consequently,  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  Inwardness,  of 
Subjectiveness,  is  Thought.  Man  is  not  free,  when  he  is  not 
thinking ;  for  except  when  thus  engaged  he  sustains  a  relation 
to  the  world  around  him  as  to  another,  an  alien  form  of  being. 
This  comprehension — the  penetration  of  the  Ego  into  and  be- 
yond other  forms  of  being  with  the  most  profound  self-cer- 
tainty [the  identity  of  subjective  and  objective  Reason  being 
recognized] ,  directly  involves  the  harmonization  of  Being :  for 
it  must  be  observed  that  the  unity  of  Thought  with  its  Object 
is  already  implicitly  present  [i.e.  in  the  fundamental  constitu- 
tion of  the  Universe],  for  Reason  is  the  substantial  basis  of 
Consciousness  as  well  as  of  the  External  and  Natural.  Thus 
that  which  presents  itself  as  the  Object  of  Thought  is  no  longer 
an  absolutely  distinct  form  of  existence  [ein  Jenseits],  not  of 
an  alien  and  grossly  substantial  [as  opposed  to  intelligible] 
nature. 

Thought  is  the  grade  to  which  Spirit  has  now  advanced.  It 
involves  the  Harmony  of  Being  in  its  purest  essence,  challeng- 
ing the  external  world  to  exhibit  the  same  Reason  which  Sub- 
ject [the  Ego]  possesses.  Spirit  perceives  that  Nature — the 
World — must  also  be  an  embodiment  of  Reason,  for  God  cre- 
ated it  on  principles  of  Reason.  An  interest  in  the  contempla- 
tion and  comprehension  of  the  present  world  became  universal. 
Nature  embodies  Universality,  inasmuch  as  it  is  nothing  other 
than  Sorts,  Genera,  Power,  Gravitation,  etc.,  phenomenally  pre- 
sented. Thus  Experimental  Science  became  the  science  of  the 
World ;  for  experimental  science  involves  on  the  one  hand  the 
observation  of  phenomena,  on  the  other  hand  also  the  discovery 
of  the  Law,  the  essential  being,  the  hidden  force  that  causes 

*  Abstractions  (pure  thoughts),  are,  v'x  telligent  as  mere  fancies.  In  proportion 
termini,  detached  from  the  material  ob-  as  such  abstractions  involve  activity  and 
iects  which  suggested  them,  and  are  at  intensity  of  thought,  the  mind  may  be 
least  as  evidently  the  product  of  the  said  to  be  occupied  with  itself  in  con- 
thinking  mind  as  of  the  external  world.  templating  them. — J.  S. 
Hence  they  are  ridiculed  by  the  unin- 


440  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

those  phenomena — thus  reducing  the  data  supplied  by  observa- 
tion to  their  simple  principles.  Intellectual  consciousness  was 
first  extricated  from  that  sophistry  of  thought,  which  unsettles 
everything,  by  Descartes.  As  it  was  the  purely  German  nations 
among  whom  the  principle  of  Spirit  first  manifested  itself,  so 
it  was  by  the  Romanic  nations  that  the  abstract  idea  (to  which 
the  character  assigned  them  above — viz.,  that  of  internal  schism, 
more  readily  conducted  them)  was  first  comprehended.  Ex- 
perimental science  therefore  very  soon  made  its  way  among 
them  (in  common  with  the  Protestant  English),  but  especially 
among  the  Italians.  It  seemed  to  men  as  if  God  had  but  just 
created  the  moon  and  stars,  plants  and  animals,  as  if  the  laws 
of  the  universe  were  now  established  for  the  first  time;  for 
only  then  did  they  feel  a  real  interest  in  the  universe,  when  they 
recognized  their  own  Reason  in  the  Reason  which  pervades  it. 
The  human  eye  became  clear,  perception  quick,  thought  active 
and  interpretative.  The  discovery  of  the  laws  of  Nature  en- 
abled men  to  contend  against  the  monstrous  superstition  of 
the  time,  as  also  against  all  notions  of  mighty  alien  powers 
which  magic  alone  could  conquer.  The  assertion  was  even 
ventured  on,  and  that  by  Catholics  not  less  than  by  Protestants, 
that  the  External  [and  Material],  with  which  the  Church  in- 
sisted upon  associating  superhuman  virtue,  was  external  and 
material,  and  nothing  more — that  the  Host  was  simply  dough, 
the  relics  of  the  Saints  mere  bones.  The  independent  authority 
of  Subjectivity  was  maintained  against  belief  founded  on  au- 
thority, and  the  Laws  of  Nature  were  recognized  as  the  only 
bond  connecting  phenomena  with  phenomena.  Thus  all  mir- 
acles were  disallowed :  for  Nature  is  a  system  of  known  and 
recognized  Laws ;  Man  is  at  home  in  it,  and  that  only  passes 
for  truth  in  which  he  finds  himself  at  home ;  he  is  free  through 
the  acquaintance  he  has  gained  with  Nature.  Nor  was  thought 
less  vigorously  directed  to  the  Spiritual  side  of  things:  Right 
and  [Social]  Morality  came  to  be  looked  upon  as  having  their 
foundation  in  the  actual  present  Will  of  man,  whereas  formerly 
it  was  referred  only  to  the  command  of  God  enjoined  ab  extra, 
written  in  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  or  appearing  in  the 
form  of  particular  Right  [as  opposed  to  that  based  on  general 
principles]  in  old  parchments,  as  privilegia,  or  in  international 
compacts.  What  the  nations  acknowledge  as  international 
Right  was  deduced  empirically  from  observation    (as  in  the 


THE  MODERN  TIME  441 

work  of  Grotius)  ;  then  the  source  of  the  existing  civil  and 
political  law  was  looked  for,  after  Cicero's  fashion,  in  those 
instincts  of  men  which  Nature  has  planted  in  their  hearts — e.g., 
the  social  instinct;  next  the  principle  of  security  for  the  per- 
son and  property  of  the  citizens,  and  of  the  advantage  of  the 
commonwealth — that  which  belongs  to  the  class  of  "  reasons 
of  State."  On  these  principles  private  rights  were  on  the  one 
hand  despotically  contravened,  but  on  the  other  hand  such 
contravention  was  the  instrument  of  carrying  out  the  general 
objects  of  the  State  in  opposition  to  mere  positive  or  prescrip- 
tive claims.  Frederick  II  may  be  mentioned  as  the  ruler  who 
inaugurated  the  new  epoch  in  the  sphere  of  practical  life — that 
epoch  in  which  practical  political  interest  attains  Universality 
[is  recognized  as  an  abstract  principle],  and  receives  an  abso- 
lute sanction.  Frederick  II  merits  especial  notive  as  having 
comprehended  the  general  object  of  the  State,  and  as  having 
been  the  first  sovereign  who  kept  the  general  interest  of  the 
State  steadily  in  view,  ceasing  to  pay  any  respect  to  particular 
interests  when  they  stood  in  the  way  of  the  common  weal.  His 
immortal  work  is  a  domestic  code — the  Prussian  municipal  law. 
How  the  head  of  a  household  energetically  provides  and  gov- 
erns with  a  view  to  the  weal  of  that  household  and  of  his  de- 
pendents— of  this  he  has  given  a  unique  specimen. 

These  general  conceptions,  deduced  from  actual  and  present 
consciousness — the  Laws  of  Nature  and  the  substance  of  what 
is  right  and  good,  have  received  the  name  of  Reason.  The 
recognition  of  the  validity  of  these  laws  was  designated  by  the 
term  Eclaircissement  (Aufklarung).  From  France  it  passed 
over  into  Germany,  and  created  a  new  world  of  ideas.  The 
absolute  criterion — taking  the  place  of  all  authority  based  on 
religious  belief  and  positive  laws  of  Right  (especially  political 
Right) — is  the  verdict  passed  by  Spirit  itself  on  the  character 
of  that  which  is  to  be  believed  or  obeyed.  After  a  free  investi- 
gation in  open  day,  Luther  had  secured  to  mankind  Spiritual 
Freedom  and  the  Reconciliation  [of  the  Objective  and  Sub- 
jective] in  the  concrete :  he  triumphantly  established  the  posi- 
tion that  man's  eternal  destiny  [his  spiritual  and  moral  posi- 
tion] must  be  wrought  out  in  himself  [cannot  be  an  opus  ope- 
ratum,  a  work  performed  for  him].  But  the  import  of  that 
which  is  to  take  place  in  him — what  truth  is  to  become  vital  in 
him,  was  taken  for  granted  by  Luther  as  something  already 


442  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

given,  something  revealed  by  religion.  Now,  the  principle  was 
set  up  that  this  import  must  be  capable  of  actual  investiga- 
tion— something  of  which  I  [in  this  modern  time]  can  gain 
an  inward  conviction — and  that  to  this  basis  of  inward  demon- 
stration every  dogma  must  be  referred. 

This  principle  of  thought  makes  its  appearance  in  the  first 
instance  in  a  general  and  abstract  form;  and  is  based  on  the 
axiom  of  Contradiction  and  Identity.*  The  results  of  thought 
are  thus  posited  as  finite,  and  the  eclaircissement  utterly  ban- 
ished and  extirpated  all  that  was  speculative  from  things  human 
and  divine.  Although  it  is  of  incalculable  importance  that  the 
multiform  complex  of  things  should  be  reduced  to  its  simplest 
conditions,  and  brought  into  the  form  of  Universality,  yet  this 
still  abstract  principle  does  not  satisfy  the  living  Spirit,  the 
concrete  human  soul. 

This  formally  absolute  principle  brings  us  to  the  last  stage 
in  History,  our  world,  our  own  time. 

Secular  life  is  the  positive  and  definite  embodiment  of  the 
Spiritual  Kingdom — the  Kingdom  of  the  Will  manifesting  it- 
self in  outward  existence.  Mere  impulses  are  also  forms  in 
which  the  inner  life  realizes  itself;  but  these  are  transient  and 
disconnected;  they  are  the  ever-changing  applications  of  voli- 
tion. But  that  which  is  just  and  moral  belongs  to  the  essential, 
independent,  intrinsically  universal  Will;  and  if  we  would 
know  what  Right  really  is,  we  must  abstract  from  inclination, 
impulse  and  desire  as  the  particular;  i.e.,  we  must  know  what 
the  Will  is  in  itself.  For  benevolent,  charitable,  social  impulses 
are  nothing  more  than  impulses — to  which  others  of  a  different 
class  are  opposed.  What  the  Will  is  in  itself  can  be  known  only 
when  these  specific  and  contradictory  forms  of  volition  have 
been  eliminated.  Then  Will  appears  as  Will,  in  its  abstract  es- 
sence. The  Will  is  Free  only  when  it  does  not  will  anything 
alien,  extrinsic,  foreign  to  itself  (for  as  long  as  it  does  so,  it 
is  dependent),  but  wills  itself  alone — wills  the  Will.  This  is 
absolute  Will — the  volition  to  be  free.  Will  making  itself  its 
own  object  is  the  basis  of  all  Right  and  Obligation — conse- 
quently of  all  statutory  determinations  of  Right,  categorical 

*  The    sensational    conclusions   of   the  himself),  therefore  he  is  passive;  there- 

"  materialistic  "  school  of  the   18th  cen-  fore  all  knowledge  is  derived  ab  extra." 

Jury  are  reached  by  the  "  axiom  of  Con-  What  this  externa!  objective  being  is  of 

tradiction  and   Identity,""    as  applied  in  which  this  knowledge  is  the  cognition, 

this    simple   dilemma:     "In    cognition,  remains    an    eternal    mystery —  i.e.,    as 

Man  is  either  active  or  passive;  he  is  Hegel    says:    "  The   results   of  thought 

not  active  (unless  he  is  grossly  deceiving  are  posited  as  finite."— J.  S. 


THE   MODERN   TIME  443 

imperatives,  and  enjoined  obligations.  The  Freedom  of  the 
Will  per  se,  is  the  principle  and  substantial  basis  of  all  Right — 
is  itself  absolute,  inherently  eternal  Right,  and  the  Supreme 
Right  in  comparison  with  other  specific  Rights ;  nay,  it  is  even 
that  by  which  Man  becomes  Man,  and  is  therefore  the  funda- 
mental principle  of  Spirit.  But  the  next  question  is :  How  does 
Will  assume  a  definite  form  ?  For  in  willing  itself,  it  is  nothing 
but  an  identical  reference  to  itself;  but,  in  point  of  fact,  it  wills 
something  specific:  there  are,  we  know,  distinct  and  special 
Duties  and  Rights.  A  particular  application,  a  definite  form  of 
Will,  is  desiderated;  for  pure  Will  is  its  own  object,  its  own 
application,  which,  as  far  as  this  showing  goes,  is  no  object,  no 
application.  In  fact,  in  this  form  it  is  nothing  more  than  formal 
Will.  But  the  metaphysical  process  by  which  this  abstract  Will 
develops  itself,  so  as  to  attain  a  definite  form  of  Freedom,  and 
how  Rights  and  Duties  are  evolved  therefrom,  this  is  not  the 
place  to  discuss.*  It  may  however  be  remarked  that  the  same 
principle  obtained  speculative  recognition  in  Germany,  in  the 
Kantian  Philosophy.  According  to  it  the  simple  unity  of  Self- 
consciousness,  the  Ego,  constitutes  the  absolutely  independent 
Freedom,  and  is  the  fountain  of  all  general  conceptions — i.e.  all 
conceptions  elaborated  by  Thought — Theoretical  Reason;  and 
likewise  of  the  highest  of  all  practical  determinations  [or  con- 
ceptions]— Practical  Reason,  as  free  and  pure  Will;  and 
Rationality  of  Will  is  none  other  than  the  maintaining  one's  self 
in  pure  Freedom — willing  this  and  this  alone — Right  purely  for 
the  sake  of  Right,  Duty  purely  for  the  sake  of  Duty.  Among 
the  Germans  this  view  assumed  no  other  form  than  that  of  tran- 
quil theory;  but  the  French  wished  to  give  it  practical  effect. 
Two  questions,  therefore,  suggest  themselves:  Why  did  this 
principle  of  Freedom  remain  merely  formal  ?  f  and  why  did  the 
French  alone,  and  not  the  Germans,  set  about  realizing  it? 

*  "  Freedom  of  the  Will,"  in  Hegel's  genealogies,    connects   virtuous   associa- 

use  of  the  term,  has  an  intensive  signi-  tions.    In  adopting  a  code  of  Duties,  and 

fication,  and  must  be  distinguished  from  in  acknowledging  Rights,  the  Will  rec- 

"  Liberty  of  Will  "   in  its  ordinary  ac-  ognises  its  own  Freedom  in  this  intensive 

ceptation.    The    latter    denotes  a  mere  sense,  for  in  such  adoption  it  declares  its 

liability  to  be  affected  by  extrinsic  mo-  own  ability  to  pursue  a  certain  course  of 

tives:     the     former     is     that     absolute  action  in  spite  of  all  inducements,  sensu- 

strength  of  Will  which  enables  it  to  defy  ous   or   emotional,    to    deviate   from    it. 

all    seductions    that  m  challenge    its    per-  These  remarks  may  supply  some  indica- 

sistency.    Its  sole  object  is  self-assertion.  tions  of  the  process  referred  to  in  the 

In  fact  it  is  Individuality  maintaining  it-  text. — J.  S. 

self  against  all  dividing    or  _  distracting  t  "  Formal  Freedom  "  is  mere  liberty 

forces.    And  to  maintain  individuality  _  is  to    do    what    one    likes.    It    is    called 

to  preserve  consistency — to  "  act  on  prin-  "  formal,"  because,  as  already  indicated, 

ciple  " — phrases   with    which    Language,  the  matter  of  volition — what  it  is  that  is 

the  faithful  conservator  of  metaphysical  willed— is  left  entirely  undetermined.    In 

Vol.  23  T— Classics 


444  •       PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

With  the  formal  principle  more  significant  categories  were 
indeed  connected:  one  of  the  chief  of  these  (for  instance)  was 
Society,  and  that  which  is  advantageous  for  Society :  but  the 
aim  of  Society  is  itself  political — that  of  the  State  (vid.  "  Droits 
de  l'homme  et  du  citoyen,"  1791) — the  conservation  of  Natural 
Rights;  but  Natural  Right  is  Freedom,  and,  as  further  deter- 
mined, it  is  Equality  of  Rights  before  the  Law.  A  direct  con- 
nection is  manifest  here,  for  Equality,  Parity,  is  the  result  of  the 
comparison  of  many  ;*  the  "  Many  "  in  question  being  human 
beings,  whose  essential  characteristic  is  the  same,  viz.  Free- 
dom. That  principle  remains  formal,  because  it  originated  with 
abstract  Thought — with  the  Understanding,  which  is  primarily 
the  self-coiasciousness  of  Pure  Reason,  and  as  direct  [unre- 
flected,  undeveloped]  is  abstract.  As  yet,  nothing  further  is 
developed  from  it,  for  it  still  maintains  an  adverse  position  to 
Religion,  i.e.  to  the  concrete  absolute  substance  of  the  Universe. 

As  respects  the  second  question — why  the  French  immedi- 
ately passed  over  from  the  theoretical  to  the  practical,  while  the 
Germans  contented  themselves  with  theoretical  abstraction,  it 
might  be  said :  the  French  are  hot-headed  [Us  ont  la  tete  pres 
du  bonnet]  ;  but  this  is  a  superficial  solution :  the  fact  is  that 
the  formal  principle  of  philosophy  in  Germany  encounters  a 
concrete  real  World  in  which  Spirit  finds  inward  satisfaction 
and  in  which  conscience  is  at  rest.  For  on  the  one  hand  it  was 
the  Protestant  World  itself  which  advanced  so  far  in  Thought 
as  to  realize  the  absolute  culmination  of  Self-Consciousness ; 
on  the  other  hand,  Protestantism  enjoys,  with  respect  to  the 
moral  and  legal  relations  of  the  real  world,  a  tranquil  confidence 
in  the  [Honorable]  Disposition  of  men — a  sentiment,  which,  [in 
the  Protestant  World,]  constituting  one  and  the  same  thing  with 
Religion,  is  the  fountain  of  all  the  equitable  arrangements  that 
prevail  with  regard  to  private  right  and  the  constitution  of  the 
State.  In  Germany  the  eclaircissement  was  conducted  in  the 
interest  of  theology :  in  France  it  immediately  took  up  a  posi- 
tion of  hostility  to  the  Church.  In  Germany  the  entire  compass 
of  secular  relations  had  already  undergone  a  change  for  the 

the  next  paragraph  the  writer  goes  on  to  tempted  to  be  rendered  in  English  by  th« 

show  that  some  definite  object  was  as-  terms  parity   and   comparison,   and   per- 

sociated  with  a  sentiment  otherwise  un-  haps   etymology   may  justify   the   expe« 

meaning  or  bestial,  "Vive  la  Liberte!"  dient.    The   meaning   of   the    derivative 

J.  s.  "  comparatio  "    seems   to   point   to    the 

*The      radical      correspondence      of  connection    c* 

"  Gleichheit  "  and  "  Vergleichung  "  is  at-  "  par."— J-  S. 


THE  MODERN   TIME  445 

better;  those  pernicious  ecclesiastical  institutes  of  celibacy, 
voluntary  pauperism,  and  laziness,  had  been  already  done  away 
with;  there  was  no  dead  weight  of  enormous  wealth  attached 
to  the  Church,  and  no  constraint  put  upon  Morality — a  con- 
straint which  is  the  source  and  occasion  of  vices ;  there  was  not 
that  unspeakably  hurtful  form  of  iniquity  which  arises  from 
the  interference  of  spiritual  power  with  secular  law,  nor  that 
other  of  the  Divine  Right  of  Kings,  i.e.  the  doctrine  that  the 
arbitrary  will  of  princes,  in  virtue  of  their  being  "  the  Lord's 
Anointed,"  is  divine  and  holy :  on  the  contrary  their  will  is  re- 
garded as  deserving  of  respect  only  so  far  as  in  association  with 
reason,  it  wisely  contemplates  Right,  Justice,  and  the  weal  of 
the  community.  The  principle  of  Thought,  therefore,  had  been 
so  far  conciliated  already ;  moreover  the  Protestant  World  had 
a  conviction  that  in  the  Harmonization  which  had  previously 
been  evolved  [in  the  sphere  of  Religion]  the  principle  which 
would  result  in  a  further  development  of  equity  in  the  political 
sphere  was  already  present. 

Consciousness  that  has  received  an  abstract  culture,  and 
whose  sphere  is  the  Understanding  [V  erst  and]  can  be  indif- 
ferent to  Religion,  but  Religion  is  the  general  form  in  which 
Truth  exists  for  non-abstract  consciousness.  And  the  Prot- 
estant Religion  does  not  admit  of  two  kinds  of  consciences, 
while  in  the  Catholic  world  the  Holy  stands  on  the  one  side  and 
on  the  other  side  abstraction  opposed  to  Religion,  that  is  to  its 
superstition  and  its  truth.  That  formal,  individual  Will  is  in 
virtue  of  the  abstract  position  just  mentioned  made  the  basis 
of  political  theories;  Right  in  Society  is  that  which  the  Law 
wills,  and  the  Will  in  question  appears  as  an  isolated  individual 
will;  thus  the  State,  as  an  aggregate  of  many  individuals,  is 
not  an  independently  substantial  Unity,  and  the  truth  and  es- 
sence of  Right  in  and  for  itself — to  which  the  will  of  its  individ- 
ual members  ought  to  be  conformed  in  order  to  be  true,  free 
Will ;  but  the  volitional  atoms  [the  individual  wills  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  State]  are  made  the  starting  point,  and  each  will  is 
represented  as  absolute. 

An  intellectual  principle  was  thus  discovered  to  serve  as  a 
basis  for  the  State — one  which  does  not,  like  previous  principles, 
belong  to  the  sphere  of  opinion,  such  as  the  social  impulse,  the 
desire  of  security  for  property,  etc.  nor  owe  its  origin  to  the 
religious  sentiment,  as  does  that  of  the  Divine  appointment  of 


446  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

the  governing  power — but  the  principle  of  Certainty,  which  is 
identity  with  my  self-consciousness,  stopping  short  however  of 
that  of  Truth,  which  needs  to  be  distinguished  from  it.  This 
is  a  vast  discovery  in  regard  to  the  profoundest  depths  of  being 
and  Freedom.  The  consciousness  of  the  Spiritual  is  now  the 
essential  basis  of  the  political  fabric,  and  Philosophy  has  there- 
by become  dominant.  It  has  been  said,  that  the  French  Revolu- 
tion resulted  from  Philosophy,  and  it  is  not  without  reason  that 
Philosophy  has  been  called  "  Weltweisheit  "  [World  Wisdom ;] 
for  it  is  not  only  Truth  in  and  for  itself,  as  the  pure  essence  of 
things,  but  also  Truth  in  its  living  form  as  exhibited  in  the 
affairs  of  the  world.  We  should  not,  therefore,  contradict  the 
assertion  that  the  Revolution  received  its  first  impulse  from  Phi- 
losophy. But  this  philosophy  is  in  the  first  instance  only  ab- 
stract Thought,  not  the  concrete  comprehension  of  absolute 
Truth — intellectual  positions  between  which  there  is  an  im- 
measurable chasm. 

The  principle  of  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  therefore,  asserted 
itself  against  existing  Right.  Before  the  French  Revolution,  it 
must  be  allowed,  the  power  of  the  grandees  had  been  dimin- 
ished by  Richelieu,  and  they  had  been  deprived  of  privileges; 
but,  like  the  clergy,  they  retained  all  the  prerogatives  which 
gave  them  an  advantage  over  the  lower  class.  The  political  con- 
dition of  France  at  that  time  presents  nothing  but  a  confused 
mass  of  privileges  altogether  contravening  Thought  and  Reason 
— an  utterly  irrational  state  of  things,  and  one  with  which  the 
greatest  corruption  of  morals,  of  Spirit  was  associated — an 
empire  characterized  by  Destitution  of  Right,  and  which,  when 
its  real  state  begins  to  be  recognized,  becomes  shameless  destitu- 
tion of  Right.  The  fearfully  heavy  burdens  that  pressed  upon 
the  people,  the  embarrassment  of  the  government  to  procure  for 
the  Court  the  means  of  supporting  luxury  and  extravagance, 
gave  the  first  impulse  to  discontent.  The  new  Spirit  began  to 
agitate  men's  minds:  oppression  drove  men  to  investigation. 
It  was  perceived  that  the  sums  extorted  from  the  people  were 
not  expended  in  furthering  the  objects  of  the  State,  but  were 
lavisned  in  the  most  unreasonable  fashion.  The  entire  political 
system  appeared  one  mass  of  injustice.  The  change  was  neces- 
sarily violent,  because  the  work  of  transformation  was  not  un- 
dertaken by  the  government.  And  the  reason  why  the  govern- 
ment did  not  undertake  it  was  that  the  Court,  the  Clergy,  the 


THE   MODERN   TIME  447 

Nobility,  the  Parliaments  themselves,  were  unwilling  to  sur- 
render the  privileges  they  possessed,  either  for  the  sake  of  ex- 
pediency or  that  of  abstract  Right;  moreover,  because  the 
government  as  the  concrete  centre  of  the  power  of  the  State, 
could  not  adopt  as  its  principle  abstract  individual  wills,  and 
reconstruct  the  State  on  this  basis ;  lastly,  because  it  was  Cath- 
olic, and  therefore  the  Idea  of  Freedom — Reason  embodied  in 
Laws — did  not  pass  for  the  final  absolute  obligation,  since  the 
Holy  and  the  religious  conscience  are  separated  from  them.  The 
conception,  the  idea  of  Right  asserted  its  authority  all  at  once, 
and  the  old  framework  of  injustice  could  offer  no  resistance  to 
its  onslaught.  A  constitution,  therefore,  was  established  in  har- 
mony with  the  conception  of  Right,  and  on  this  foundation  all 
future  legislation  was  to  be  based.  Never  since  the  sun  had 
stood  in  the  firmament  and  the  planets  revolved  around  him 
had  it  been  perceived  that  man's  existence  centres  in  his  head, 
i.e.  in  Thought,  inspired  by  which  he  builds  up  the  world  of 
reality.  Anaxagoras  had  been  the  first  to  say  that  vovs  governs 
the  World ;  but  not  until  now  had  man  advanced  to  the  recog- 
nition of  the  principle  that  Thought  ought  to  govern  spiritual 
reality  This  was  accordingly  a  glorious  mental  dawn.  All 
thinking  beings  shared  in  the  jubilation  of  this  epoch.  Emo- 
tions of  a  lofty  character  stirred  men's  minds  at  that  time;  a 
spiritual  enthusiasm  thrilled  through  the  world,  as  if  the  recon- 
ciliation between  the  Divine  and  the  Secular  was  now  first 
accomplished. 

The  two  following  points  must  now  occupy  our  attention :  1st. 
The  course  which  the  Revolution  in  France  took ;  2d.  How  that 
Revolution  became  World-Historical. 

1.  Freedom  presents  two  aspects:  the  one  concerns  its  sub- 
stance and  purport — its  objectivity — the  thing  itself — [that 
which  is  performed  as  a  free  act]  ;  the  other  relates  to  the  Form 
of  Freedom,  involving  the  consciousness  of  his  activity  on  the 
part  of  the  individual ;  for  Freedom  demands  that  the  individ- 
ual recognize  himself  in  such  acts,  that  they  should  be  veritably 
his,  it  being  his  interest  that  the  result  in  question  should  be 
attained.  The  three  elements  and  powers  of  the  State  in  actual 
working  must  be  contemplated  according  to  the  above  analysis, 
their  examination  in  detail  being  referred  to  the  Lectures  on 
the  Philosophy  of  Right. 

(1.)  Laws  of  Rationality — of  intrinsic  Right — Objective  or 


448  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

Real  Freedom:  to  this  category  belong  Freedom  of  Property 
and  Freedom  of  Person.  Those  relics  of  that  condition  of  servi- 
tude which  the  feudal  relation  had  introduced  are  hereby  swept 
away,  and  all  those  fiscal  ordinances  which  were  the  bequest  of 
the  feudal  law — its  tithes  and  dues,  are  abrogated.  Real  [prac- 
tical] Liberty  requires  moreover  freedom  in  regard  to  trades 
and  professions — the  permission  to  every  one  to  use  his  abilities 
without  restriction — and  the  free  admission  to  all  offices  of 
State.  This  is  a  summary  of  the  elements  of  real  Freedom,  and 
which  are  not  based  on  feeling — for  feeling  allows  of  the  con- 
tinuance even  of  serfdom  and  slavery — but  on  the  thought  and 
self-consciousness  of  man  recognizing  the  spiritual  character 
of  his  existence. 

(2.)  But  the  agency  which  gives  the  laws  practical  effect  is 
the  Government  generally.  Government  is  primarily  the  formal 
execution  of  the  laws  and  the  maintenance  of  their  authority: 
in  respect  to  foreign  relations  it  prosecutes  the  interest  of  the 
State;  that  is,  it  assists  the  independence  of  the  nation  as  an 
individuality  against  other  nations ;  lastly,  it  has  to  provide 
for  the  internal  weal  of  the  State  and  all  its  classes — what  is 
called  administration:  for  it  is  not  enough  that  the  citizen  is 
allowed  to  pursue  a  trade  or  calling,  it  must  also  be  a  source  of 
gain  to  him ;  it  is  not  enough  that  men  are  permitted  to  use 
their  powers,  they  must  also  find  an  opportunity  of  applying 
them  to  purpose.  Thus  the  State  involves  a  body  of  abstract 
principles  and  a  practical  application  of  them.  This  applica- 
tion must  be  the  work  of  a  subjective  will,  a  will  which  resolves 
and  decides.  Legislation  itself — the  invention  and  positive  en- 
actment of  these  statutory  arrangements,  is  an  application  of 
such  general  principles.  The  next  step,  then,  consists  in 
[specific]  determination  and  execution.  Here  then  the  ques- 
tion presents  itself:  what  is  the  decisive  will  to  be?  The  ulti- 
mate decision  is  the  prerogative  of  the  monarch :  but  if  the 
State  is  based  on  Liberty,  the  many  wills  of  individuals  also 
desire  to  have  a  share  in  political  decisions.  But  the  Many  are 
All;  and  it  seems  but  a  poor  expedient,  rather  a  monstrous  in- 
consistency, to  allow  only  a  few  to  take  part  in  those  decisions, 
since  each  wishes  that  his  volition  should  have  a  share  in  deter- 
mining what  is  to  be  law  for  him.  The  Few  assume  to  be  the 
deputies,  but  they  are  often  only  the  despoilers  of  the  Many. 
Nor  is  the  sway  of  the  Majority  over  the  Minority  a  less  pal- 
pable inconsistency. 


THE  MODERN  TIME  449 

(3.)  This  collision  of  subjective  wills  leads  therefore  to  the 
consideration  of  a  third  point,  that  of  Disposition — an  ex  animo 
acquiescence  in  the  laws;  not  the  mere  customary  observance 
of  them,  but  the  cordial  recognition  of  laws  and  the  Constitu- 
tion as  in  principle  fixed  and  immutable,  and  of  the  supreme 
obligation  of  individuals  to  subject  their  particular  wills  to 
them.  There  may  be  various  opinions  and  views  respecting 
laws,  constitution  and  government,  but  there  must  be  a  disposi- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  citizens  to  regard  all  these  opinions  as 
subordinate  to  the  substantial  interest  of  the  State,  and  to  in- 
sist upon  them  no  further  than  that  interest  will  allow;  more- 
over nothing  must  be  considered  higher  and  more  sacred  than 
good  will  towards  the  State ;  or,  if  Religion  be  looked  upon  as 
higher  and  more  sacred,  it  must  involve  nothing  really  alien 
or  opposed  to  the  Constitution.  It  is,  indeed,  regarded  as  a 
maxim  of  the  profoundest  wisdom  entirely  to  separate  the  laws 
and  constitution  of  the  State  from  Religion,  since  bigotry  and 
hypocrisy  are  to  be  feared  as  the  results  of  a  State  Religion. 
But  although  the  aspects  of  Religion  and  the  State  are  different, 
they  are  radically  one;  and  the  laws  find  their  highest  confirma- 
tion in  Religion. 

Here  it  must  be  frankly  stated,  that  with  the  Catholic  Re- 
ligion no  rational  constitution  is  possible ;  for  Government  and 
People  must  reciprocate  that  final  guarantee  of  Disposition,  and 
can  have  it  only  in  a  Religion  that  is  not  opposed  to  a  rational 
political  constitution. 

Plato  in  his  Republic  makes  everything  depend  upon  the 
Government,  and  makes  Disposition  the  principle  of  the  State ; 
on  which  account  he  lays  the  chief  stress  on  Education.  The 
modern  theory  is  diametrically  opposed  to  this,  referring  every- 
thing to  the  individual  will.  But  here  we  have  no  guarantee 
that  the  will  in  question  has  that  right  disposition  which  is 
essential  to  the  stability  of  the  State. 

In  view  then  of  these  leading  considerations  we  have  to  trace 
the  course  of  the  French  Revolution  and  the  remodelling  of  the 
State  in  accordance  with  the  Idea  of  Right.  In  the  first  instance 
purely  abstract  philosophical  principles  were  set  up:  Disposi- 
tion and  Religion  were  not  taken  into  account.  The  first  Con- 
stitutional form  of  Government  in  France  was  one  which  recog- 
nized Royalty;  the  monarch  was  to  stand  at  the  head  of  the 
State,  and  on  him  in  conjunction  with  his  Ministers  was  to  de- 


450  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

volve  the  executive  power;  the  legislative  body  on  the  other 
hand  were  to  make  the  laws.  But  this  constitution  involved 
from  the  very  first  an  internal  contradiction ;  for  the  legislature 
absorbed  the  whole  power  of  the  administration:  the  budget, 
affairs  of  war  and  peace,  and  the  levying  of  the  armed  force 
were  in  the  hands  of  the  Legislative  Chamber.  Everything 
was  brought  under  the  head  of  Law.  The  budget  however  is 
in  its  nature  something  diverse  from  law,  for  it  is  annually  re- 
newed, and  the  power  to  which  it  properly  belongs  is  that  of 
the  Government.  With  this  moreover  is  connected  the  indirect 
nomination  of  the  ministry  and  officers  of  state,  etc.  The  gov- 
ernment was  thus  transferred  to  the  Legislative  Chamber,  as 
in  England  to  the  Parliament.  This  constitution  was  also  viti- 
ated by  the  existence  of  absolute  mistrust ;  the  dynasty  lay  un- 
der suspicion,  because  it  had  lost  the  power  it  formerly  enjoyed, 
and  the  priests  refused  the  oath.  Neither  government  nor  con- 
stitution could  be  maintained  on  this  footing,  and  the  ruin  of 
both  was  the  result.  A  government  of  some  kind  however  is 
always  in  existence.  The  question  presents  itself  then,  Whence 
did  it  emanate?  Theoretically,  it  proceeded  from  the  people; 
really  and  truly  from  the  National  Convention  and  its  Commit- 
tees. The  forces  now  dominant  are  the  abstract  principles — 
Freedom,  and,  as  it  exists  within  the  limits  of  the  Subjective 
Will — Virtue.  This  Virtue  has  now  to  conduct  the  govern- 
ment in  opposition  to  the  Many,  whom  their  corruption  and  at- 
tachment to  old  interests,  or  a  liberty  that  has  degenerated  into 
license,  and  the  violence  of  their  passions,  render  unfaithful  to 
virtue.  Virtue  is  here  a  simple  abstract  principle  and  distin- 
guishes the  citizens  into  two  classes  only — those  who  are  favor- 
ably disposed  and  those  who  are  not.  But  disposition  can  only 
be  recognized  and  judged  of  by  disposition.  Suspicion  there- 
fore is  in  the  ascendant ;  but  virtue,  as  soon  as  it  becomes  liable 
to  suspicion,  is  already  condemned.  Suspicion  attained  a  ter- 
rible power  and  brought  to  the  scaffold  the  Monarch,  whose 
subjective  will  was  in  fact  the  religious  conscience  of  a  Catholic. 
Robespierre  set  up  the  principle  of  Virtue  as  supreme,  and  it 
may  be  said  that  with  this  man  Virtue  was  an  earnest  matter. 
Virtue  and  Terror  are  the  order  of  the  day;  for  Subjective 
Virtue,  whose  sway  is  based  on  disposition  only,  brings  with 
it  the  most  fearful  tyranny.  It  exercises  its  power  without 
legal  formalities,  and  the  punishment  it  inflicts  is  equally  simple 


THE  MODERN  TIME  451 

—Death.  This  tyranny  could  not  last ;  for  all  inclinations,  all 
interests,  reason  itself  revolted  against  this  terribly  consistent 
Liberty,  which  in  its  concentrated  intensity  exhibited  so  fanat- 
ical a  shape.  An  organized  government  is  introduced,  anal- 
ogous to  the  one  that  had  been  displaced;  only  that  it.s  chief 
and  monarch  is  now  a  mutable  Directory  of  Five,  who  may  form 
a  moral,  but  have  not  an  individual  unity ;  under  them  also 
suspicion  was  in  the  ascendant,  and  the  government  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  legislative  assemblies ;  this  constitution  therefore 
experienced  the  same  fate  as  its  predecessor,  for  it  had  proved 
to  itself  the  absolute  necessity  of  a  governmental  power.  Napo- 
leon restored  it  as  a  military  power,  and  followed  up  this  step 
by  establishing  himself  as  an  individual  will  at  the  head  of  the 
State :  he  knew  how  to  rule,  and  soon  settled  the  internal  affairs 
of  France.  The  avocats,  idealogues  and  abstract-principle  men 
who  ventured  to  show  themselves  he  sent  "  to  the  right  about," 
and  the  sway  of  mistrust  was  exchanged  for  that  of  respect 
and  fear.  He  then,  with  the  vast  might  of  his  character  turned 
his  attention  to  foreign  relations,  subjected  all  Europe,  and  dif- 
fused his  liberal  institutions  in  every  quarter.  Greater  victories 
were  never  gained,  expeditions  displaying  greater  genius  were 
never  conducted:  but  never  was  the  powerlessness  of  Victory 
exhibited  in  a  clearer  light  than  then.  The  disposition  of  the 
peoples,  i.e.  their  religious  disposition  and  that  of  their  nation- 
ality, ultimately  precipitated  this  colossus ;  and  in  France  con- 
stitutional monarchy,  with  the  "  Charte  "  as  its  basis,  was  re- 
stored. But  here  again  the  antithesis  of  Disposition  [good 
feeling]  and  Mistrust  made  its  appearance.  The  French  stood  in 
a  mendacious  position  to  each  other,  when  they  issued  ad- 
dresses full  of  devotion  and  love  to  the  monarchy,  and  loading 
it  with  benediction.  A  fifteen  years'  farce  was  played.  For 
although  the  Charte  was  the  standard  under  which  all  were 
enrolled,  and  though  both  parties  had  sworn  to  it,  yet  on  the  one 
side  the  ruling  disposition  was  a  Catholic  one,  which  regarded 
it  as  a  matter  of  conscience  to  destroy  the  existing  institutions. 
Another  breach,  therefore,  took  place,  and  the  Government  was 
overturned.  At  length,  after  forty  years  of  war  and  confusion 
indescribable,  a  weary  heart  might  fain  congratulate  itself  on 
seeing  a  termination  and  tranquillization  of  all  these  disturb- 
ances. But  although  one  main  point  is  set  at  rest,  there  remains 
on  the  one  hand  that  rupture  which  the  Catholic  principle  in- 


452  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

evitably  occasions,  on  the  other  hand  that  which  has  to  do  with 
men's  subjective  will.  In  regard  to  the  latter,  the  main  feature 
of  incompatibility  still  presents  itself,  in  the  requirement  that 
the  ideal  general  will  should  also  be  the  empirically  general — ■ 
i.e.  that  the  units  of  the  State,  in  their  individual  capacity, 
should  rule,  or  at  any  rate  take  part  in  the  government.  Not 
satisfied  with  the  establishment  of  rational  rights,  with  free- 
dom of  person  and  property,  with  the  existence  of  a  political 
organization  in  which  are  to  be  found  various  circles  of  civil  life 
each  having  its  own  functions  to  perform,  and  with  that  influ- 
ence over  the  people  which  is  exercised  by  the  intelligent  mem- 
bers of  the  community,  and  the  confidence  that  is  felt  in  them, 
"  Liberalism  "  sets  up  in  opposition  to  all  this  the  atomistic  prin- 
ciple, that  which  insists  upon  the  sway  of  individual  wills ;  main- 
taining that  all  government  should  emanate  from  their  express 
power,  and  have  their  express  sanction.  Asserting  this  formal 
side  of  Freedom — this  abstraction — the  party  in  question  allows 
no  political  organization  to  be  firmly  established.  The  partic- 
ular arrangements  of  the  government  are  forthwith  opposed  by 
the  advocates  of  Liberty  as  the  mandates  of  a  particular  will, 
and  branded  as  displays  of  arbitrary  power.  The  will  of  the 
Many  expels  the  Ministry  from  power,  and  those  who  had 
formed  the  Opposition  fill  the  vacant  places;  but  the  latter 
having  now  become  the  Government,  meet  with  hostility  from 
the  Many,  and  share  the  same  fate.  Thus  agitation  and  unrest 
are  perpetuated.  This  collision,  this  nodus,  this  problem  is  that 
with  which  history  is  now  occupied,  and  whose  solution  it  has 
to  work  out  in  the  future. 

2.  We  have  now  to  consider  the  French  Revolution  in  its 
organic  connection  with  the  History  of  the  World;  for  in  its 
substantial  import  that  event  is  World-Historical,  and  that  con- 
test of  Formalism  which  we  discussed  in  the  last  paragraph 
must  be  properly  distinguished  from  its  wider  bearings.  As 
regards  outward  diffusion  its  principle  gained  access  to  almost 
all  modern  states,  either  through  conquest  or  by  express  intro- 
duction into  their  political  life.  Particularly  all  the  Romanic 
nations,  and  the  Roman  Catholic  World  in  special — France, 
Italy,  Spain — were  subjected  to  the  dominion  of  Liberalism. 
But  it  became  bankrupt  everywhere ;  first,  the  grand  firm  in 
France,  then  its  branches  in  Spain  and  Italy ;  twice,  in  fact,  in 
the  states  into  which  it  had  been  introduced.    This  was  the  case 


THE   MODERN  TIME  453 

in  Spain,  where  it  was  first  brought  in  by  the  Napoleonic  Consti- 
tution, then  by  that  which  the  Cortes  adopted — in  Piedmont, 
first  when  it  was  incorporated  with  the  French  Empire,  and  a 
second  time  as  the  result  of  internal  insurrection ;  so  in  Rome 
and  in  Naples  it  was  twice  set  up.  Thus  Liberalism  as  an  ab- 
straction, emanating  from  France,  traversed  the  Roman  World ; 
but  Religious  slavery  held  that  world  in  the  fetters  of  political 
servitude.  For  it  is  a  false  principle  that  the  fetters  which  bind 
Right  and  Freedom  can  be  broken  without  the  emancipation  of 
conscience — that  there  can  be  a  Revolution  without  a  Reforma- 
tion.— These  countries,  therefore,  sank  back  into  their  old  con- 
dition— in  Italy  with  some  modifications  of  the  outward  political 
condition.  Venice  and  Genoa,  those  ancient  aristocracies, 
which  could  at  least  boast  of  legitimacy,  vanished  as  rotten 
despotisms.  Material  superiority  in  power  can  achieve  no  en- 
during results :  Napoleon  could  not  coerce  Spain  into  freedom 
any  more  than  Philip  II  could  force  Holland  into  slavery. 

Contrasted  with  these  Romanic  nations  we  observe  the  other 
powers  of  Europe,  and  especially  the  Protestant  nations.  Aus- 
tria and  England  were  not  drawn  within  the  vortex  of  internal 
agitation,  and  exhibited  great,  immense  proofs  of  their  internal 
solidity.  Austria  is  not  a  Kingdom,  but  an  Empire,  i.e.  an  ag- 
gregate of  many  political  organizations.  The  inhabitants  of  its 
chief  provinces  are  not  German  in  origin  and  character,  and 
have  remained  unaffected  by  "  ideas."  Elevated  neither  by_ 
education  nor  religion,  the  lower  classes  in  some  districts  have 
remained  in  a  condition  of  serfdom,  and  the  nobility  have  been 
kept  down,  as  in  Bohemia ;  in  other  quarters,  while  the  former 
have  continued  the  same,  the  barons  have  maintained  their 
despotism,  as  in  Hungary.  Austria  has  surrendered  that  more 
intimate  connection  with  Germany  which  was  derived  from  the 
imperial  dignity,  and  renounced  its  numerous  possessions  and 
rights  in  Germany  and  the  Netherlands.  It  now  takes  its  place 
in  Europe  as  a  distinct  power,  involved  with  no  other.  Eng- 
land, with  great  exertions,  maintained  itself  on  its  old  founda- 
tions; the  English  Constitution  kept  its  ground  amid  the  gen- 
eral convulsion,  though  it  seemed  so  much  the  more  liable  to  be 
affected  by  it,  as  a  public  Parliament,  that  habit  of  assembling 
in  public  meeting  which  was  common  to  all  orders  of  the  state, 
and  a  free  press,  offered  singular  facilities  for  introducing  the 
French  principles  of  Liberty  and  Equality  among  all  classes  of 


454 


PHILOSOPHY   OF  HISTORY 


the  people.  Was  the  English  nation  too  backward  in  point  of 
culture  to  apprehend  these  general  principles  ?  Yet  in  no  coun- 
try has  the  question  of  Liberty  been  more  frequently  a  subject 
of  reflection  and  public  discussion.  Or  was  the  English  con- 
stitution so  entirely  a  Free  Constitution — had  those  principles 
been  already  so  completely  realized  in  it,  that  they  could  no 
longer  excite  opposition  or  even  interest?  The  English  nation 
may  be  said  to  have  approved  of  the  emancipation  of  France; 
but  it  was  proudly  reliant  on  its  own  constitution  and  freedom, 
and  instead  of  imitating  the  example  of  the  foreigner,  it  dis- 
played its  ancient  hostility  to  its  rival,  and  was  soon  involved  in 
a  popular  war  with  France. 

The  Constitution  of  England  is  a  complex  of  mere  particular 
Rights  and  particular  privileges :  the  Government  is  essentially 
administrative — that  is,  conservative  of  the  interests  of  all  par- 
ticular orders  and  classes;  and  each  particular  Church,  pa- 
rochial district,  county,  society,  takes  care  of  itself,  so  that  the 
Government,  strictly  speaking,  has  nowhere  less  to  do  than  in 
England.  This  is  the  leading  feature  of  what  Englishmen  call 
their  Liberty,  and  is  the  very  antithesis  of  such  a  centralized 
administration  as  exists  in  France,  where  down  to  the  least 
village  the  Maire  is  named  by  the  Ministry  or  their  agents.  No- 
where can  people  less  tolerate  free  action  on  the  part  of  others 
than  in  France:  there  the  Ministry  combines  in  itself  all  ad- 
ministrative power,  to  which,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies  lays  claim.  In  England,  on  the  contrary,  every  parish, 
every  subordinate  division  and  association  has  a  part  of  its 
own  to  perform.  Thus  the  common  interest  is  concrete,  and 
particular  interests  are  taken  cognizance  of  and  determined  in 
view  of  that  common  interest.  These  arrangements,  based  on 
particular  interests,  render  a  general  system  impossible.  Conse- 
quently, abstract  and  general  principles  have  no  attraction  for 
Englishmen — are  addressed  in  their  case  to  inattentive  ears. — 
The  particular  interests  above  referred  to  have  positive  rights 
attached  to  them,  which  date  from  the  antique  times  of  Feudal 
Law,  and  have  been  preserved  in  England  more  than  in  any 
other  country.  By  an  inconsistency  of  the  most  startling  kind, 
we  find  them  contravening  equity  most  grossly ;  and  of  institu- 
tions characterized  by  real  freedom  there  are  nowhere  fewer 
than  in  England.  In  point  of  private  right  and  freedom  of  pos- 
session they  present  an  incredible  deficiency:    sufficient  proof 


THE  MODERN  TIME  455 

of  which  is  afforded  in  the  rights  of  primogeniture,  involving 
the  necessity  of  purchasing  or  otherwise  providing  military  or 
ecclesiastical  appointments  for  the  younger  sons  of  the  aristoc- 
racy. 

The  Parliament  governs,  although  Englishmen  are  unwilling 
to  allow  that  such  is  the  case.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  what 
has  been  always  regarded  as  the  period  of  the  corruption  of  a 
republican  people,  presents  itself  here ;  viz.  election  to  seats  in 
parliament  by  means  of  bribery.  But  this  also  they  call  free- 
dom— the  power  to  sell  one's  vote,  and  to  purchase  a  seat  in 
parliament. 

But  this  utterly  inconsistent  and  corrupt  state  of  things  has 
nevertheless  one  advantage,  that  it  provides  for  the  possibility 
of  a  government — that  it  introduces  a  majority  of  men  into 
parliament  who  are  statesmen,  who  from  their  very  youth  have 
devoted  themselves  to  political  business  and  have  worked  and 
lived  in  it.  And  the  nation  has  the  correct  conviction  and  per- 
ception that  there  must  be  a  government,  and  is  therefore  will- 
ing to  give  its  confidence  to  a  body  of  men  who  have  had  ex- 
perience in  governing ;  for  a  general  sense  of  particularity  in- 
volves also  a  recognition  of  that  form  of  particularity  which 
is  a  distinguishing  feature  of  one  class  of  the  community — that 
knowledge,  experience,  and  facility  acquired  by  practice,  which 
the  aristocracy  who  devote  themselves  to  such  interests  ex- 
clusively possess.  This  is  quite  opposed  to  the  appreciation 
of  principles  and  abstract  views  which  everyone  can  under- 
stand at  once,  and  which  are  besides  to  be  found  in  all  Constitu- 
tions and  Charters.  It  is  a  question  whether  the  Reform  in 
Parliament  now  on  the  tapis,  consistently  carried  out,  will  leave 
the  possibility  of  a  Government. 

The  material  existence  of  England  is  based  on  commerce  and 
industry,  and  the  English  have  undertaken  the  weighty  respon- 
sibility of  being  the  missionaries  of  civilization  to  the  world; 
for  their  commercial  spir: :  urges  them  to  traverse  every  sea 
and  land,  to  form  connections  with  barbarous  peoples,  to  create 
wants  and  stimulate  industry,  and  first  and  foremost  to  estab- 
lish among  them  the  conditions  necessary  to  commerce,  viz. 
the  relinquishment  of  a  life  of  lawless  violence,  respect  for  prop- 
erty, and  civility  to  strangers. 

Germany  was  traversed  by  the  victorious  French  hosts,  but 
German  nationality  delivered  it  from  this  yoke.    One  of  the 


456  PHILOSOPHY    OF   HISTORY 

leading  features  in  the  political  condition  of  Germany  is  that 
code  of  Rights  which  was  certainly  occasioned  by  French  op- 
pression, since  this  was  the  especial  means  of  bringing  to  light 
the  deficiencies  of  the  old  system.  The  fiction  of  an  Empire  has 
utterly  vanished.  It  is  broken  up  into  sovereign  states.  Feudal 
obligations  are  abolished,  for  freedom  of  property  and  of  per- 
son have  been  recognized  as  fundamental  principles.  Offices  of 
State  are  open  to  every  citizen,  talent  and  adaptation  being  of 
course  the  necessary  conditions.  The  government  rests  with 
the  official  world,  and  the  personal  decision  of  the  monarch  con- 
stitutes its  apex ;  for  a  final  decision  is,  as  was  remarked  above, 
absolutely  necessary.  Yet  with  firmly  established  laws,  and  a 
settled  organization  of  the  State,  what  is  left  to  the  sole  arbitra- 
ment of  the  monarch  is,  in  point  of  substance,  no  great  matter. 
It  is  certainly  a  very  fortunate  circumstance  for  a  nation,  when 
a  sovereign  of  noble  character  falls  to  its  lot ;  yet  in  a  great  state 
even  this  is  of  small  moment,  since  its  strength  lies  in  the  Rea- 
son incorporated  in  it.  Minor  states  have  their  existence  and 
tranquillity  secured  to  them  more  or  less  by  their  neighbors: 
they  are  therefore,  properly  speaking,  not  independent,  and 
have  not  the  fiery  trial  of  war  to  endure.  As  has  been  remarked, 
a  share  in  the  government  may  be  obtained  by  every  one  who 
has  a  competent  knowledge,  experience,  and  a  morally  regulated 
will.  Those  who  know  ought  to  govern — oi  apLCTOt,  not  ignor- 
ance and  the  presumptuous  conceit  of  "  knowing  better." 
Lastly,  as  to  Disposition,  we  have  already  remarked  that  in  the 
Protestant  Church  the  reconciliation  of  Religion  with  Legal 
Right  has  taken  place.  In  the  Protestant  world  there  is  no 
sacred,  no  religious  conscience  in  a  state  of  separation  from, 
or  perhaps  even  hostility  to  Secular  Right. 

This  is  the  point  which  consciousness  has  attained,  and  these 
are  the  principal  phases  of  that  form  in  which  the  principle  of 
Freedom  has  realized  itself ; — for  the  History  of  the  World  is 
nothing  but  the  development  of  the  Idea  of  Freedom.  But 
Objective  Freedom — the  laws  of  real  Freedom — demand  the 
subjugation  of  the  mere  contingent  Will — for  this  is  in  its  nat- 
ure formal.  If  the  Objective  is  in  itself  Rational,  human  in- 
sight and  conviction  must  correspond  with  the  Reason  which  it 
embodies,  and  then  we  have  the  other  essential  element — Sub- 
jective Freedom — also  realized.*    We  have  confined  ourselves 

*  That    is,    the   will   of   the   individual  goes    along    with    the    requirements    of 
reasonable  Laws. — J.  S. 


THE  MODERN  TIME  457 

to  the  consideration  of  that  progress  of  the  Idea  [which  has  led 
to  this  consummation],  and  have  been  obliged  to  forego  the 
pleasure  of  giving  a  detailed  picture  of  the  prosperity,  the 
periods  of  glory  that  have  distinguished  the  career  of  peoples, 
the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the  character  of  individuals,  and  the 
interest  attaching  to  their  fate  in  weal  or  woe.  Philosophy  con- 
cerns itself  only  with  the  glory  of  the  Idea  mirroring  itself  in 
the  History  of  the  World.  Philosophy  escapes  from  the  weary 
strife  of  passions  that  agitate  the  surface  of  society  into  the 
calm  region  of  contemplation ;  that  which  interests  it  is  the 
recognition  of  the  process  of  development  which  the  Idea  has 
passed  through  in  realizing  itself — i.e.  the  Idea  of  Freedom, 
whose  reality  is  the  consciousness  of  Freedom  and  nothing 
short  of  it. 

That  the  History  of  the  World,  with  all  the  changing  scenes 
which  its  annals  present,  is  this  process  of  development  and  the 
realization  of  Spirit — this  is  the  true  Theodiccea,  the  justifica- 
tion of  God  in  History.  Only  this  insight  can  reconcile  Spirit 
with  the  History  of  the  World — viz.,  that  what  has  happened, 
and  is  happening  every  day,  is  not  only  not  "  without  God,"  but 
is  essentially  His  Work. 


